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NEW YORK 



Sunlight and Gaslight 



A WORK DESCRIPTIVE OF THE 



GREAT AMERICAN METROPOLIS. 



ITS HIGH AND LOW LIFE; ITS SPLENDORS AND MISERIES; ITS VIRTUES 
AND VICES ; ITS GORGEOUS PALACES AND DARK HOMES OF 
POVERTY AND CRIME; ITS PUBLIC MEN, POLITI- 
\Jr CIANS, ADVENTURERS ; ITS CHARITIES, 

_y'' ^ \' FRAUDS, MYSTERIES, ETC., ETC. 



,1/ 



BY JAMES D. McCABE, 

AUIHOR OF "PARIS BY SUNLIGHT AND GASLIGHT," "PICTORIAL HISTORY OF THE WORLD, 
"centennial history of the UNITED STATES," "CROSS AND CROWN, ' ETC. 



ILLUSTRATED WITH FINE FULL-PAGE AND OTHER ENGRAVINGS. 



JM^k^^ 



PHILADELPHIA, PA.: 

DOUGLASS BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS. 

J()\F.s Bros. & Co., Philadelphia; Douglass Bro,-,. & P.wne, Cincin- 
nati, O.; H. N. Hinckley, Chicago, III.; S( uthern 
Publishing Co., New Orleans, La. 

1S82. 






Copyright by 
DOUGLASS BROTHERS. 

1881. 



Press of Wm. F. Fell & Co., 

1220-1224 Sansom Street, 

Philadelphia. 



PREFACE. 

What Paris is to the Frenchman, or London to the Briton, New 
York is to the American. It is not only the Great Metropolis of 
the New World, but it is the chief attraction upon this continent, 
the great centre to which our people resort for business and plea- 
sure, and as such, is a source of never-failing interest. 

This being the case, it is natural that every American should de- 
sire to visit New York, to see the city for himself, behold its beau- 
ties, its wonderful sights, and participate in the pleasures which are 
to be enjoyed only in the Metropolis. Thousands avail themselves 
of this privilege every year ; but the great mass of our people know 
our chief city only by the descriptions of their friends, and the brief 
accounts of its sights and scenes which occur from time to time in 
the newspapers of the day. Even those who visit the city bring 
away but a superficial knowledge of it, as to know New York re- 
quires years of constant study and investigation. Strangers see only 
the surface ; they cannot penetrate into its inner life, and examine 
the countless influences at work every day in shaping the destiny 
of the beautiful city. Few, even of the residents of the Metropolis, 
have either the time or the means for such investigations. Few 
have a correct idea of the terrible romance and hard reality of the 
daily lives of a vast portion of the dwellers in New York, or of the 
splendor and luxury of the wealthier classes. 

One of the chief characteristics of New York is the rapidity with 
which changes occur in it. Those who were familiar with the city 
in the past will find it new to them now. The march of progress 
and improvement presses on with giant strides, and the city of 
to-day is widely separated from the city of a few years ago. Only 
one who has devoted himself to watching its onward career, either 
in prosperity and magnificence or in misery and crime, can form 
any idea of the magnitude and character of the wonderful changes 
of the past ten years. 

The volume now offered to the reader aims to be a faithful and 
graphic picture of the New York of to-day, and to give, in life-like 

iii 



iV PREFACE. 

colors, views of its magnificent streets and buildings, its busy, 
bustling crowds, its rushing elevated trains, its countless sights, its 
romance, its mystery, its nobler and better efforts in the cause of 
humanity, its dark crimes, and terrible tragedies. In short, the 
work endeavors to hold up to the reader a faithful mirror, in which 
shall pass all the varied scenes that transpire in New York, by sun- 
light and by gaslight. To those who have seen the great city, the 
work is offered as a means of recalling some of the pleasantest ex- 
periences of their lives ; while to the still larger class who have 
never enjoyed this pleasure, it is hoped that it will be the medium 
of their acquiring an intimate acquaintance with New York in the 
quiet of their own homes, and without the expense or fatigue of a 
journey. 

This volume is not a work of fiction, but a narrative of well au- 
thenticated, though often startling facts. The darker sides of New 
York life are shown in their true colors, and without any effort to 
tone them down. Foul blots are to be found upon the life of the 
great city. Sin, vice, crime and shame are terrible realities there, 
and they have been presented here as they actually exist. 

Throughout the work, the aim of the author has been to warn 
those who wish to see for themselves the darker side of city life, of 
the dangers attending such undertakings. A man who seeks the 
haunts of vice and crime in New York takes his life in his hand, ex- 
poses himself to dangers of the most real kind, and deserves all the 
harm that may come to him in his quest of knowledge. Enough is 
told in this volume to satisfy legitimate curiosity, and to convince 
the reader that the only path of safety in New York is to avoid all 
places of doubtful repute. The city is bright and beautiful enough 
to occupyall one's time with its wonderful sights and innocent plea- 
sures. To venture under the shadow, is to court danger in all its forms. 
No matter how "wise in his own conceit" a stranger may be, he is 
but a child in the hands of the disreputable classes of the great city. 

In the preparation of this work the author has drawn freely upon 
his own experience, the result of a long and intimate acquaintance 
with all the various phases of New York life. He ventures to hope 
that those who are familiar with the subject will recognize the truth- 
fulness of the statements made, and that the book may prove a 
source of pleasure and profit to all who may honor it with a perusal. 

November \st, 1881. J. d. m'c. 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



TAGS 

BARTHOLDI'S STATUE, "LIBERTY ENLIGHTENING THE WORLD," 
(Frontispiece) 

'EVENING POST BUILDING (Full Page).-,''. 43 

ODD FELLOWS' HALL 44 

NEW YORK LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY'S BUILDING 45 

-DOMESTIC SEWING MACHINE BUILDING (Full Page).., 47 

TRIBUNE BUILDING 48 

STAATS ZEITUNG BUILDING 49 

GRAND CENTRAL DEPOT (Full Page) to/ace 61 ■ 

-PAVONIA DOCKS, JERSEY CITY (Full Page)... v. 90 

-BIRD'S EYE VIEW OF NEW YORK (Full Page)..y. 93 

BROADWAY, LOOKING NORTH FROM EXCHANGE PLACE 136 

MUTUAL LIFE INSURANCE BUILDING 138 

-•ST. PAUL'S CHURCH (Full Page)....v 139 

■"BROADWAY, AT THE POST OFFICE (Full Page) 141 

-LORD AND TAYLOR'S DRY GOODS STORE (Full Page) 150 

-SWELL TURNOUT ON FIFTH AVENUE (Full Page) 172 

METROPOLITAN ELEVATED RAILWAY STATION, SIXTH AVENUE AND 

TWENTY-THIRD STREET (Full Page) to/act 179 

ELEVATED RAILROAD, CHATHAM SQUARE (Full Page) to/ace 1S3 

COENTIES SLIP (Full Page) to/ace 191 

THE THIRD AVENUE RAILROAD DEPOT 241 

ilASONIC TEMPLE, SIXTH AVENUE AND TWENTY-THIRD STREET 252 

METROPOLITAN ELEVATED RAILROAD, SIXTH AVENUE AND FOUR- 
TEENTH STREET (Full Page) toface 255 V 

^COACHING DAY IN CENTRAL PARK (Full Page) 263 

COOPER INSTITUTE AND ELEVATED RAILROAD, THIRD AVENUE (Full 

Page) • toface 267 y 

"PLEASE GIVE ME A PENNY" 271 

'SCENE ON WEST STREET (Full Page) 279 

CITY HALL AND PARK (Full Page) toface 207-- 

UNITED STATES SUB-TREASURY 299 

CUSTOM HOUSE 301 

^CUSTOM HOUSE INSPECTION (Full Page) 303 

STEINWAY HALL 307 

COOPER UNION 3^9 

NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN 312 

XJRAND CENTRAL DEPOT, FRONT VIEW (Full Page) 317 

^A VETERAN CALLER AT WORK (Full Page) 325 

A CALLER WHO HAS HAD TOO MUCH PUNCH 327 

NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE 335 

BELL TELEPHONE EXCHANGE (Full Page) toface ^s^' 

CUNARD STEAMSHIP "GALLIA" 361 

SOUND STEAMER BRISTOL (Full Page) toface 361 

'"GRAND SALOON, SOUND STEAMER (Full Page) 363 

\PAVONIA AND ERIE RAILWAY FERRY (Full Page) t^rfave"^ ^0'{ 

AN ATTEMPT AT SUICIDE FOILED (Full Page) toface 397^ 



VI LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

COURTLANDT STREET FERRY (Full Page) 403 

THE TOMBS 410 

SCENE IN A POLICE COURT (Full Page) to/ace 417- 

LUDLOW STREET JAIL 4^9 

UNION SQUARE, AT FOURTEENTH STREET (Full Page) to/ace 427 . 

SVIADISON SQUARE (Full Page) 429 

VIEW OF THE LAKE FROM THE TERRACE 451 

THE LOWER TERRACE IN CENTRAL PARK 453 

"^BRIDGE ACROSS THE LAKE (Full Page) 435 

^THE OBELISK (Full Page) 463 

■^'RIXITY CHURCH (Full Page) 471 

A FANCY BALL AT THE BUCKINGHAM PALACE (Full Page) to/ace 481 • 

^A WATER STREET DANCE HOUSE (Full Page) 491 

JAY GOULD 497 

THE SIXTY-NINTH REGIMENT ARMORY 499 

THE SEVENTH REGIMENT ARMORY 502 

WM. H. VANDERBILT 503 

^IVER PIRATES ESCAPING FROM THE POLICE (Full Page) 519 

CREEDMOOR RIFLE RANGE 528 

;;^00 MUCH RUM (Full Page) 531 

HENRY BERGH (Full Page) 535 

■^BROOKLYN BRIDGE AND EAST RIVER (Full Page) 538 

SCENE IN A BROADWAY GAMBLING HALL 544 

LOW CLASS GAMBLING DEN 547 

THE TUNNEL UNDER THE HUDSON RIVER 534 

-A. T. STEWART & CO.'S RETAIL STORE (Full Page) 537 

TENEMENT HOUSE IN BAXTER STREET (Full Page) to/ace 561 

JERRY M'AULEY 564 

MRS. M'AULEY 567 

'^ BOOTH'S THEATRE (Full Page) 575 

GRAND OPERA HOUSE 576 

""THE HOMES OF THE POOR (Full Page) 582 

SCENE IN THE CHINESE QUARTERS (Full Page) to/ace 585, 

~-SHANTIES IN EIGHTH AVENUE (Full Page) 587 

HOSPITAL FOR CATS (Full Page) to/ace 59i' 

THE EVENING MAIL BUILDING 600 

CHEMICAL FIRE ENGINE 606 

NEW YORK FIREMEN RESCUING A CHILD FROM THE FLAMES 6n 

-HARRY iillLLS (Full Page) 613 

HON. JOHN KELLY 617 

REV. HENRY C. POTTER, D.D 622 

REV. JOHN C. HALL, D.D 625 

REV. THOS. ARMITAGK, D.D 626 

REV. W. M. TAYLOR. D.D 627 

REV. ROBT. COLLYER, D.D 628 

"^ST. PATRICK'S CATHEDRAL (Full Page) 632 

THE OLD BOWERY THEATRE 640 

ST. NICHOLAS HOTEL 646 

METROPOLITAN HOTEL 647 

GRAND CENTRAL HOTEL 649 

THE TRAMP'S BATH 653 

BEER TRAMPS 654 

EMIGRANTS LANDING AT CASTLE GARDEN (Full Page) toface 661 

SCENE IN FULTON MARKET DURING THE WATERMELON SEASON (Full 

Page) to/ace 665 

HIGH BRIDGE 669 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE GREAT METROPOLIS. 
\ 

GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF NEW YORK CITY — LOCATION— NATURAL ADVANTAGES — COMMERCIAL 
ADVANTAGES — THE STREETS — BUILDINGS — CLIMATE — HEALTHFULNESS — MORTALITY — RAPID 
GROWTH OF THE CITY — LOFTY BUILDINGS — DESCRIPTION OF THE MOST NOTED AND THE 
HIGHEST STRUCTURES IN THE CITY — REASONS FOR BUILDING SO HIGH — LAND CHEAP UP 
STAIRS • . • . 33 

CHAPTER n. 
THE PEOPLE OF NEW YORK. 

POPULATION OF NEW YORK IN 1870— THE STATE CENSUS OF 1875— WHAT CHANGES IT SHOWED— POPU- 
LATION IN 1880 — POPULATION AFFECTED BY THE IMPROVEMENTS IN THE LOWER PART OF THE 
CITY — THE MOST DENSELY SETTLED PART OF NEW YORK — THE FLOATING POPULATION — 
STRANGERS IN NEW YORK — FOREIGN DISTRICTS — COSMOPOLITAN CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE 
— CHARACTERISTICS OF NEW YORKERS — LACK OF PUBLIC SPIRIT — INDIFFERENCE TO POLITI- 
CAL AFFAIRS — THE RESULT — THE RACE FOR WEALTH — HOW BUSINESS IS DONE IN NEW YORK — 
WEARING OUT BODY AND SOUL — A PHILOSOPHICAL MERCHANT — A NEW COMER'S IMPRESSIONS 
— LIVING TOO PAST — NO CHANCE FOR LAGGARDS — HOW SUCCESS IS WON — MERIT THE TEST — 
NEW YORK FROM A MORAL POINT OF VIEW— ITS CHARITIES AND BENEVOLENCE — TOLERATION 
OF OPINIONS AND BELIEFS — MENTAL CULTURE OF THE PEOPLE — WHAT IT COSTS TO LIVE IN 
NEW YORK — THE RICH AND THE MIDDLE CLASSES — NEW YORK AS A PLACE OF RESIDENCE — 
ATTACHMENT OF THE PEOPLE TO THE CITY 5I 

CHAPTER in. 

THE GROWTH OF NEW YORK. 

RAPID GROWTH OF NEW YORK DURING THE PAST THIRTY-FIVE YEARS — THE FLUSH TIMES AFTER 
THE WAR — EFFECTS OF THE PANIC OF 1S73 — A MOMENTARY CHECK — RETURN OF PROS- 
PERITY — PROSPECTS FOR THE FUTURE — INCREASE IN BUILDING OPF.RATIONS — HOW REAL 
ESTATE APPRECIATES IN VALUE — THE SECRET OF THE GREAT INCREASE OF WEALTH IN NEW 
YORK — FUTURE CENTRES OF POPULATION — WHAT NEW YORK WILL BE FIFTY YEARS HENCE — 
A GRAND DESTINY 65 

CHAPTER IV. 
TPIE HARBOR OF NEW YORK, 

NATURAL ADVANTAGES OF THE HARBOR — THE OUTER AND INNER BAYS — EXCURSIONS — A TRIP 
DOWN THE HARBOR — SCENES ALONG THE ROUTE — THE SHIPPING — THROUGH THE INNER BAY 
—governor's island — BEDLOE'S and ELLIS' ISLANDS — BARTHOLDl's STATUE — LIBERTY 
ENLIGHTENING THE WORLD — THE KILL VAN KULL — STATEN ISLAND — THE NARROWS — THE 
FORTIFICATIONS — THE OUTER BAY — QUARANTINE — CONEY ISLAND — SCENES IN THE LOWER 
BAY — SANDY HOOK — OUT TO SEA — BACK TO NEW YORK 88 

vii 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER V. 

SANDY HOOK. 

DESCRIPTION OP " THE HOOK " — A NOTED LANDMARK — A SANDY WASTE — THE COVE — THE BEACH 
— THE LIGHT-SHIPS— THE LIFE SAVING STATION — SANDY HOOK LIGHTHOUSE — ITS HISTORY 
— THE keeper's HOUSE — WRECKS — IN THE LIGHT-TOWER — A GRAND VIEW — OCEAN CEME- 
TERY — THE FORTIFICATIONS — TESTING THE HEAVY GUNS — THE NORTH LIGHT — THE SYRENS 
— THE TELEGRAPH STATION I04 

CHAPTER VI. 
THE NEVERSINK HIGHLANDS. 

SITUATION OF THE HIGHLANDS — THE SHREWSBURY RIVER — RED BANK — ORIGIN OF THE NAME 
OF THE HIGHLANDS — AS SEEN FROM THE SEA — THE LIGHT TOWERS — A MAGNIFICENT LIGHT 
— VIEW FROM THE TOWER — THE PICTURES IN THE LENSES — A GLIMPSE OF FAIRY LAND. II3 

CHAPTER VII. 
MUNICIPAL GOVERNMENT. 

ORGANIZATION OF THE CITY GOVERNMENT — THE MAYOR AND BOARD OF ALDERMEN— THE COM- 
MISSIONERS — DESCRIPTION OF THE VARIOUS MUNICIPAL DEPARTMENTS— POWERS OF OFFI- 
CIALS — THECOURTS — POLICE JUSTICES — THE MEN BY WHOM NEW YORK IS GOVERNED — RESPON- 
SIBILITY OF THE BETTER CLASSES — FROM THE GROG SHOP TO CIVIL POWER — WHO THE LEAD- 
ERS ARE — THE " boss" — THE RING — HOW BOSS TWEED MAINTAINED HIS POWER — SPASMODIC 
EFFORTS AT REFORM — MULHOOLYISM IN NEW YORK — AN INSIDE VIEW OF MUNICIPAL POLITICS 
— THE SLAVE OF THE RING — LOOKING OUT FOR THE " BOYS " — THE INTERESTS OF THE CITY 
NEGLECTED — THE POPULAR WILL DEFIED BY THE RING. I18 

CHAPTER VIII. 
BROADWAY. 

BARLY HISTORT OF BROADWAY — UNDER THE DUTCH AND ENGLISH RULE— PRIMITIVE NAME OP 
THE STREET — IT COMMENCES TO GROW — THE GREAT FIRE OF 1776 — THE BROADWAY OF TO- 
DAY — APPEARANCE OF THE STREET — A STROLL ON BROADWAY — THE LOWER STREET — 
TRINITY CHURCH — THE INSURANCE COMPANIES — THE TELEGRAPH WIRES — MAGNIFICENT 
BUILDINGS — SCENE FROM THE POST-OFFICE — A BROADWAY JAM — LOWER BROADWAY UY 
NIGHT — CHARACTERISTICS OF THE VARIOUS PORTIONS OF THE STREET — VIEW FROM CANAL 
STREET — THE HOTELS — AMONG THE PUBLISHERS—" STEWARt's " — GRACE CHURCH — 
BROADWAY AT UNION SQUARE — THE NARROWEST PART — MADISON SQUARE — A GRAND SIGHT — 
UPPER BROADWAY — A STREET OF MARBLE — THE GREAT HOTELS — THE CENTRAL PARK 
REACHED — STREET CARS AND OMNIBUSES — THE NIGHT LIFE OF BROADWAY — SCENES ON THE 
STREET — THE STREET WALKERS— THE ELECTRIC LIGHT — THE MIDNIGHT HOUR — BUSINESS 
ON BROADWAY. I34 

CHAPTER IX. 
THE BROADWAY STAGES. 

POPULARITY OF THIS MODE OF CONVEYANCE — A CHEAP PLEASURE—DESCRIPTION OF THE VARI- 
OUS LINES — THE STAGES AS REGARDS COMFORT — THE OUTSIDE SEATS—" KNOCKING DOWN 
IN BY-GONE days"— THE PATENT CASH BOX SYSTEM— THE " SPOTTERS "—A NIGHT RIDE 
WITH JEHU— THE " BOSS " ON THE WATCH— MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS— SKILL OF THE STAGE 
DRIVERS — A STAGE DRIVER PHOTOGRAPHED — SUFFERINGS OF THE DRIVERS — UPS AND DOWNS 
OF THE CRAFT— THE MUTUAL BENEFIT ASSOCIATION 157 



CONTENTS. IX 

CHAPTER X. 
THE FIFTH AVENUE. 

FIFTH AVENUE THE CENTRE OP FASHION AND WEALTH — DESCRIPTION OP THE STREET — A 
GRAND PANORAMA — LOWER FIFTH AVENUE — ENCROACHMENTS OF BUSINESS — FOURTEENTH 
STREET — THE " SWALLOW TAIL" DEMOCRACY — AMONG THE PIANO MAKERS — CHICKKKING 
HALL — CHURCHES — CLUBS AND ART GALLERIES — TWENTY-THIRD STREET — DELMONICo's — 
THE ASTOR RESIDENCES — STEWART'S MARBLE PALACE — A REGION OF BROWN STONE — UPPER 
FIFTH AVENUE — THE HOTELS — THE CATHEDRAL — THE VANDERBILT MANSIONS — ALONG 
THE CENTRAL PARK — THE LENOX LIBRARY — THE FIFTH AVENUE MANSIONS — HOMES OF 
WEALTH AND LUXURY^HOW THEY ARE FITTED UP — FIFTH AVENUE ON NEW YEAr's NIGHT — 
LIFE IN FIFTH AVENUE — THE WHIRL OF DISSIPATION — WHATITCOSTS — THE STRUGGLE FOR 
SHOW — THE " NEWLY RICH " — DARK SIDE OF FIFTH AVENUE LIFE — THE SKELETONS — FIFTH 
AVENUE HUSBANDS AND WIVES — THE CHILDREN — "ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS." l6s 

CHAPTER XL 
THE ELEVATED RAILROADS. 

INCON^'ENIENCES OF OLD-STYLE TRAVEL — PLANS FOR RAPID TRANSIT — THE FIRST ELEVATED 
RAILROAD — THE PRESENT SY'STEM — THE METROPOLITAN AND NEW YORK ELEVATED ROADS — 
THE MANHATTAN COMPANY — DESCRIPTION OF THE ROADS — HOW THEY ARE BUILT — MODE OF 
OPERATIONS — STATIONS — EMPLOYEES — RAPID TRAINS — ADVANTAGES OF THE SYSTEM — ITS 
DRAWBACKS — IMMENSE TRAFFIC — RESULTS OF THE ELEVATED SYSTEM — RAPID GROWTH OF 
THE UPPER PART OF THE CITY — A RIDE ON THE ELEVATED RAILROADS — THE NIGHT TRAINS 
—FROM THE BATTERY TO HARLEM BY NIGHT I78 

CHAPTER Xn. 
SOCIETY. 

THE VARIOUS CLASSES OP SOCIETY — THE BEST OP ALL — THE "OLD KNICKERBOCKERS" — A HEAVY 
SET OF SWELLS — RICHES AND CULTURE COMBINED— THE NEWLY RICH — THE CONTROLLING 
ELEMENT — HOW SHODDY GETS INTO SOCIETY — THE POWER OF MONEY — FASHIONABLE SNOB- 
BERY — FROM THE TENEMENT HOUSE TO THE FIFTH AVENUE MANSION^MANIA FOR COATS 
OF ARMS — HOW BOSS TWEED WAS VICTIMIZED — SUDDEN APPEARANCES AND DISAPPEAR- 
ANCES IN SOCIETY — " RICHES HAVE WINGS " — A FAILURE AND A TRIUMPH — WHAT IT COSTS — 
MONEY THE ONE THING NEEDFUL — EXTRAVAGANCE OF NEW YORK SOCIETY — LOVE OF DRESS 
— A FASHIONABLE LADY's WARDROBE — FOLLIES OF THE MEN — PASSION FOR THE LEG BUSI- 
NESS — FASHIONABLE ENTERTAINMENTS — THE END OF EXTRAVAGANT CAREERS — THE SKELE- 
TONS SOMETIMES COME OUT OF THEIR CLOSETS— FASHIONABLE BALLS AND PARTIES — HOW 
THEY ARE GIVEN — INVITATIONS — BALL ROOM SCENES — THE SUPPERS — A SWELL CONVERSATION 
— FASHIONABLE THIEVES — AN ARISTOCRATIC SNEAK THIEF — HOW A BROKER KEPT HIS PLACE 
IN SOCIETY — A detective's EXPERIENCE IN FASHIONABLE LIFE — THE PRETTY WIDOW AND 
THE LACES^FASHIONABLE RECEPTIONS — WEDDINGS IN HIGH LIFE — ARRANGED ON A PECU- 
NIARY BASIS— MONEY THE ATTRACTION — HOW HEARTS ARE BOUGHT AND SOLD — THE WED- 
DING FESTIVITIES — GUARDING THE BRIDAL PRESENTS — WHAT IT ALL COSTS — FASHIONABLE 
DEATH — ONLY THE RICH CAN AFFORD TO DIB IN NEW YORK — COST OF A FASHIONABLE 
FUNERAL — INTERESTING DETAILS I95 

CHAPTER Xni. 
THE STREET RAILWAYS. 

THE PRESENT STREET-RAILWAY SYSTEM — IMMENSE BUSINESS DONE BY THE SURFACE ROADS — 
EXPENSES AND RECEIPTS — HOW THE ELEVATED ROADS HAVE AFFECTED THE HORSE RAIL- 
WAYS — DISCOMFORTS OF THE STREET CARS — THE CONDUCTORS AND DRIVERS — STORY OF A 
conductor's lot — HARD WORK AND POOR PAY — KNOCKING DOWN — HOW IT IS DONE — BEAT- 
ING THE BELL-PUNCH. 238 



X CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XIV. 
SIXTH AVENUE. 

RAPID ADVANCE OF SIXTH AVKNUE IN PROSPERITY-DESCRIPTION OF THE STREET-THE LOWER 
PORTION-THE TENEMENT HOUSES-FRENCH FLATS-THE ELEVATED RAILROAD AND ITS 
STATIONS-A BUSY SCENE-SIXTH-AVENUE STORES-" MACEY's "-THE JEFFERSON MARKET 
POLICE COURT-BOOTH'S THEATRE-THE MASONIC TEMPLE-" THE TABERNACLE"-SIXTH 
AVENUE BY NIGHT-A CHANGE OF SCENE-THE STREET-WALKERS-BRAZEN VICE-THE 
FRENCH WOMEN-SNARING A VICTIM-SHAMEFUL SCENES ON THE AVENUE-THE STREET A 
TERROR TO DECENT PEOPLE-TIIE ROUGHS-SIXTH-AVENUE OYSTER HOUSES AND BEER SA- 
LOONS-SCENE IN A FLASH SALOON-A YOUTHFUL CRIMINAL-THE DETECTIVE'S PRIZE- 
SIXTH AVENUE AFTER MIDNIGHT-A DRUNKEN SINGER-" IN THE SWEET BYE-AND-BYE ' - 
NO EFFORT MADE TO CHECK THE EVIL ^5° 

CHAPTER XV. 
COACHING DAY. 

MEMORIES OF BYGONE DAYS-STAGE COACHING IN FORMER YEARS-REVIVAL OF COACHING IN NEW 
YORK-COLONEL KANE'S ENTERPRISE-THE " TALLY HO "-A HANDSOME SUCCESS-SOCIETY 
ADOPTS COACHING AS THE" CORRECT THING "-THBCOACHING CLUB ORGANIZED-COACHING 
BAY— THE ANNUAL PARADE— A BRILLIANT SIGHT =5 

CHAPTER XVI. 
THE STREETS OF NEW YORK. 

MADISON AVENUE-MILES OF BROWN STONE-PARK AVENUE-LEXINGTON AVENUE-THIRTY- 
FOURTH AND FIFTY-SEVENTH STREETS— MAGNIFICENT RESIDENCES— THIRD AVENUE THK 
GREAT HIGHWAY OF THE EAST SIDE— EIGHTH AVENUE THE SMALL TRADERS' PARADISE— THB 
SATURDAY NIGHT MARKET-TWENTY-THIRD AND FOURTEENTH STREETS-DISAPPEARANCE OP 
LANDMARKS-CHANGES IN THE CHARACTER OF THE STREETS-A GLANCE AT TWENTY-THIRD 
STREET TO-DAY-" THE BEGGARS' PARADISE "-STREET CHARACTERS-A YOUNG IMPOSTOR- 
KICKED FROM A HORSE CAR INTO A HOME-BLEECKER STREET-LIFE IN BOHEMIA-A STREET 
WHERE NO QUESTIONS ARE ASKED-GRAND STREET-CHATHAM STREET-THE CHILDREN OF 
ISRAEL AND THEIR WAYS-FULTON STREET-NASSAU STREET-A CROWDED NEIGHBORHOOD- 
PECULIARITIES OF THE STREET-PINE STREET-AMONG THE MONEYED MEN-WEST AND 
SOUTH STREETS— ALONG THE WATER SIDE— BUSY SCENES 2 5 

CHAPTER XVII. 
DIVORCES WITHOUT PUBLICITY. 

OUEKR ADVERTISEMENTS-THK "DIVORCE RING "-ITS FIELD OF OPERATIONS-THE DIVORCE 
LAWYER-WHO HE IS-HEADQUARTERS OF THE MEMBERS OF THE RING-SCENE IN A LAW- 
YER'S OFFICE-A RICH CLIENT-" OFF WITH THE OLD LOVE AND ON WITH THE NEW"-A 
CHARACTERISTIC CASE-" THE EASIEST THING IN THE WORLD TO GET A DIVORCe"-WEST- 
ERN DIVORCES-HOW A MERCHANT MADE A MISTRESS OF HIS WIFE-WHO ARE THE CLIENTS 
—COST OF A DIVORCE-HOW IT IS MANAGED-THE REFEREE SYSTEM-SPOTTING A HUSBAND- 
MANUFACTURING EVIDENCE-THE " OLD MAN " ENTRAPPED-PROFESSIONAL WITNESSES- 
THE DIVORCE LAWYER'S SYSTEM OF DRUMMING UP BUSINESS-DIRTY WORK FOR TEN PER 
CENT -SERVING A SUMMONS-A MOCKERY OF JUSTICE-POWER OF THE RING-TKE COURTS 

... 201 

AND BAR AFRAID TO BREAK IT UP 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
CHRISTMAS IN NEW YORK. 

^REPARATIONS FOR CHRISTMAS-HOLIDAY APPEARANCE OF THE CITV-STREET SCENES-BUSINESS 
BOOMING-SCENESINTHECITY BY NIGHT-A NOVEL SIGHT ON THE ELEVATED RAILROAD 
TRAINS-BUSY TIMES IN THE MARKETS-THE TURKEYS-TRINITY CHIMES-MIDNIGHT SER- 
VICES-CHRISTMAS DAY-HOW IT IS OBSERVED IN NEW YORK-CHRISTMAS WITH THE POOR. 

29a 



CONTENTS. XI 

CHAPTER XIX. 
PUBLIC BUILDINGS. 

THE CITY HALL — THE GOVERNOR'S ROOM — THE COUNTY COURT HOUSE — REMINISCENCES OF THB 
" TWEED ring" — THE HALL OF RECORDS — THE UNITED STATES SUB-TREASURY — THE GREAT 
VAULTS — HOW UNCLE SAM'S MONEY IS GUARDED — THE ASSAY OFFICE — THE CUSTOM HOUSE— 
A NOBLE EDIFICE — THE BUSINESS OF THE PORT OF NEW YORK — DUTIES OF OFFICIALS — THB 
BARGE OFFICE — PASSING THROUGH THE CUSTOM HOUSE — CUSTOM HOUSE BROKERS — TAM- 
MANY HALL — THE TAMMANY SOCIETY — POLITICAL ORGANIZATION — "BOSS KELLY " — THE 
COOPER UNION — WORK OF THE INSTITUTION — THE BIBLE HOUSE — A GREAT WORK DONE — THE 
NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN — HOW THE SCHOOLS ARE CONDUCTED — ANNUAL EXHIBI- 
TIONS^THE YOUNG MEN's CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION BUILDING — THE LECTURE ROOM — A 
REFUGE FOR Y'OUNG MEN — THE GRAND CENTRAL RAILROAD DEPOT — INTERNAL ARRANGE- 
MENTS — THE CAR HOUSE — THE FOURTH AVENUE TUNNELS. 2(y6 

CHAPTER XX. 

NEW YEAR'S CALLS. 
NEW York's great festal day — preparations for new year's day — the hair-dressers' 

ROUNDS — RECEPTION CARDS — HOW THEY ARE ISSUED — JOINT RECEPTIONS — THE CARD-BAS- 
KET AND ITS MEANING — LADIES' TOILETS — A CHANCE FOR REFORM — THE FIRST CALLERS — 
THE VETERANS — ADVANTAGES OF A LIST — SCENES TOWARD NIGHTFALL — TOO MUCH PUNCH — 
MRS. B.'S RECEPTION — A SWEET FINALE — NEW YEAR IN THE KITCHEN — HOW THE SALOONS 
CELEBRATE THE DAY — REFRESHMENTS AND PUNCH FOR ALL — NEW YORK WITH A HEAD- 
ACHE — ladies' DAY. 320 

CHAPTER XXI. 
AMONG THE BULLS AND BEARS OF WALL STREET. 

DESCRIPTION OF WALL STREET — VALUE OF REAL ESTATE — ENORMOUS RENTS — ORIGIN OF THE 
NAME OF THE STREET — NOTABLE BUILDINGS — TRANSACTIONS OF THE STREET — THE SCENE 
AT NOON — THE STOCK EXCHANGE — THE LONG ROOM — OUTSIDE DEALERS — THE REGULAR 
BOARD — HOW BUSINESS IS CONDUCTED IN THE EXCHANGE — THE VICE-PRESIDENT — RULES OF 
THE EXCHANGE — GOOD FAITH EXACTED OF ITS MEMBERS — THE GOVERNMENT BOARD — 
CHARACTERISTIC SCENES — THE VAULTS AND THEIR TREASURES — THE TELEGRAPH INSTRU- 
MENTS — THE "tickers" — LIFE OF A STOCK BROKER — SPORTS OF THE EXCHANGE — THE 
CLEARING HOUSE AND ITS OPERATIONS — CURBSTONE BROKERS — RECKLESS TRANSACTIONS — 
STOCK SPECULATIONS — BUY'ING AND SELLING ON COMMISSION — UNCERTAINTIES OF THB 
STREET — HOW FORTUNES ARE MADE AND LOST ON WALL STREET — STOCK GAMBLING — WHO 
ARE THE SPECULATORS — A DARING BROKER — " BLACK FRIDAY " — HOW AN OPERATOR WAS 
RUINED — STOCK SWINDLERS — SHARPERS IN WALL STREET — THE COMBINATION SYSTEM — A 
BAREFACED SWINDLE — ACTION OF THE GENERAL GOVERNMENT — HOW BOGUS OPERATORS 
FLEECE UNSUSPECTING CUSTOMERS — AN INSIDE VIEW OF THE COMBINATION SYSTEM — 
ENORMOUS PROFITS — THE SWINDLE EXPOSED — A WARNING TO WOULD-BE SPECULATORS. 33O 

CHAPTER XXII. 
ALONG THE WHARVES. 

WRETCHED CHARACTER OF THE WHARVES— PLAN FOR A NEW SYSTEM— THE NORTH RIVER 
FRONT — THE RAILROAD PIERS — THE FERRY HOUSES — THE FOREIGN STEAMSHIPS — THE 
FLOATING PALACES OF THE HUDSON AND LONG ISLAND SOUND— THE BETHEL— THE BO.\T 
STORES— THE GRAIN ELEVATORS— THE EAST RIVER FRONT— SAILING VESSELS— THE SHIP 
YARDS— THE DRY DOCKS— THE CANAL BOATS— SCENES ON BOARD— THE FRUIT TRADE— THE 
FISH MARKET— SCENFS ALONG THE WHARVES— ACCIDENTS— THE RESCUE STATIONS— THE 
VOLUNTEER LIFE-SAVING CORPS — " NAN, THE LIFE SAVER." 36° 



Xll 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 
POLICE. 



ORIGIN OF THE NEW YORK POLICE FORCE — THE OLD TIME POLICEMEN — "OLD HAYES — 
INCREASE OF CRIME — GEORGE W. MATSELL — THE FIRST REGULAR POLICE FORCE — OPPOSITION 
TO IT — THE METROPOLITAN POLICE JORCK ORGANIZED — THE MUNICIPAL POLICE — POLICE 
HEADQUARTERS — THE COMMISSIONERS — SUPERINTENDENT WALLING — ^THB SUBORDINATE 
OFFICERS — THE PATROLMEN — QUALIFICATIONS OF A POLICEMAN — THE BROADWAY SQUAD — 
DUTIES OF THE FORCE — OMNIPRESENCE OF THE POLICE — POWER OVER THE ROUGHS — DAN- 
GERS OF A policeman's LIFE — DARING EXPLOITS OF CAPTAINS WILLIAMS AND ALLAIRE — 
FIGHTING A MOB — FEAR OF THE " LOCUSTS " — UNIFORM OF THE FORCE — HOW THE CITY IS 
PATROLLED — HOURS OF DUTY — A SINGULAR POLICEMAN — HOW PETE JOINED THE FORCE — 
HIS SERVICES — ARRESTS — THE STATION HOUSES — INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS — THE " BUM- 
MERS' ROOMS " — HOW VAGRANTS ARE LODGED — THE SERGEANT IN CHARGE — A NIGHT IN A 
POLICE STATION— A FEMALE TRAMP — " DRUNK AND DISORDERLY" — A CASE OF DISTRESS — A 
FRUITLESS ERRAND— A NEW WAY TO GET HOME AT NIGHT — SEARCH FOR A MISSING HUSBAND 
— A POLITICAL ROW — YOUNG BLOODS ON A LARK — COSTLY FUN — A WOULD-BE-SUICIDE — 
BROUGHT BACK FROM THE GRAVE — A JOLLY TRAMP — A GHASTLY SPECTACLE — MASKERS IN A 
STATION HOUSE — THE MOUNTED POLICE — A SENSIBLE HORSE — THE HARBOR POLICE — A HARD 
LIFE — PROVISION FOR DISABLED POLICEMEN AND THEIR FAMILIES 368 



CHAPTER XXIV. 
FERRIES. 

NEW York's only means of communication with the main land — number of ferries — 

THE ferry boats — CROSSING IN A FOG — ANNOYANCES OF FERRY TRAVEL — THE FERRY 
HOUSES — A MOONLIGHT RIDE ON A FERRY BOAT — A SUICIDE — ACCIDENTS. . . . 404 

CHAPTER XXV. 
THE PRISONS OF NEW YORK. 

THE TOMBS — DESCRIPTION OF THE BUILDING — THE INTERIOR — THE "BRIDGE OF SlGHs" — 
PLACE OF EXECUTION — THE MALE PRISON — THE CELLS — THE WOMEN's PRISON — THE 
"bummers' hall" — THE WARDEN'S OFFICE — THE "SWELL CELLs" — THE BOYS' PRISON — 
RELIGIOUS SERVICES — GOVERNMENT OF THE TOMBS — WARDEN FINN — THE MATRON — A 
PRISON OF DETENTION — NOTED ESCAPES FROM THE TOMES — " BLACK MARI.\ " — THE 
POLICE COURT — HOW PRISONERS ARE DISPOSED OF — THE COURT OF SPECIAL SESSIONS — 
THE "tomes shysters" — LUDLOW STREET JAIL — THE SHERIFF'S PRISON — IMPRISONMENT 
FOR DEBT — CAPTIVE MILITIAMEN — FEDERAL PRISONERS — EXTORTIONS PRACTICED UPON 
PRISONERS — HOW THE DEPUTY SHERIFFS BLEED THEIR VICTIMS 409 



CHAPTER XXVI. 
PUBLIC SQUARES. 

THE BATTERY PARK — ITS HISTORY — THE BATTERY IN OLD TIMES — ITS PRESENT CONDITION — A 
DELIGHTFUL BREATHING PLACE — THE BARGE OFFICE — THE BOWLING GREEN — THE CITY 
HALL PARK — TOMPKINS SQUARE — SQUANDERING THE PUBLIC FUNDS — A FINE PARK RUINED — 
WASHINGTON SQUARE — UNION SQUARE AND ITS SURROUNDINGS — THE " SLAVE MARKET" 
— STUYVESANT SQUARE — MADISON SQUARE — A DELIGHTFUL PLEASURE-GROUND — MAGNIFI- 
CENT SURROUNDINGS — GRAMMERCY PARK — RESERVOIR SQUARE — MOUNT MORRIS SQUARE — 
MORNINGSIDE PAEK— RIVERSIDE PARK. 422 



CONTENTS. XUl 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE PAWNBROKERS AND THEIR WAYS. 

THE SIGN OF THE THREE BALLS— LAWS RESPECTING PAWNBROKERS— HOW LICENSES ARE ISSI'ED— 
DISREGARDOFTHELAWEYTHEPAWNBROKERS— SOURCES OF PROFIT— EXCESSIVE. INTEREST- 
STORAGE CHARGES— SALES OF UNREDEEMED GOODS— WHO ARE THE PAWNBROKERS- THE 
JEWS— A DISHONEST CLASS— SUCKING THE LIFE-BLOOD OF THE POOR— HOW CUSTOMERS ARE 
SWINDLED— CHARACTERISTIC SCENE IN A PAWN SHOP— THE JEWs' ONE PER CENT.— AN INSIDE 
VIEW OF THE BUSINESS— DRUMMING UP CUSTOM 43^ 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 
THE CENTRAL PARK. 

PLANS FOR A GRAND PARK— CHOICE OF A SITE— THE PARK COMMISSION ORGANIZED— DTFFICUL- 
TIES IN THE WAY— THE WORK BEGUN— THE RESULT— THE CENTRAL PARK OF TO-DAY— COST 
OF THE PARK— THE UPPER AND LOWER PARKS— THE ENTRANCES— THE POND— THE OLD 
ARSENAL— THE MENAGERIE— THE METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATORY— THE BALL GROUND— 
THE DAIRY-AMUSEMENTS FOR CHILDREN-THE GREEN-THE SHEEPFOLD-THE SEVENTH 
REGIMENT STATUE— STATUE OF WEBSTER— THE MARBLE ARCH— THE MALL— STATUES ON THE 
MALL— THE PLAZA— THE VINE-COVERED WALK— THE ARCADE— THE TERRACE— THE ESPLAN- 
ADE-THE BETHESDA FOUNTAIN-THE LAKE-BOATING-SKATING SCENES-THE CONSERVA- 
TORY WATER— THE RAMBLE-THE CAVE-THE BELVEDERE— THE CROTON RESERVOIRS-THE 
UPPER PARK— HARLEM BEER— THE OLD POWDER HOUSE— THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF 
.ART-THE DI CESNOLA COLLECTION— THE OBELISK— A VENERABLE RELIC OF THE ANCIENT 
WORLD— THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY— THE TRANSVERSE ROADS— A TRI- 
UMPH OF ENGINEERING— THE PARK COMMISSION— THE POLICE REGULATIONS— PARK TRAFFIC. 

440 



CHAPTER XXIX. 
TRINITY CHURCH. 

'OLD TRINITY"— THE THREE CHURCHES-DESCRIPTION OF TRINITY CHURCH-THE INTERIOR- 
THE ALTAR AND REREDOS-THE WINDOWS— THE SERVICES— FINE MUSIC— DAILY SIGHTS IN 
TRINITY-THE SPIRE-THB CHIMES-VIEW FROM THE SPIRE-THE CHURCHYARD-NOTED 
TOMBS-TRINITY PARISH-THE CHAPELS-WEALTH OF THE PARISH-ITS NOBLE WORK. 469 



CHAPTER XXX. 
THE LOST SISTERHOOD. 

PREVALENCE OF PROSTITUTION IN NEW YORK— POLICE STATISTICS— FIRST-CLASS HOUSES— 
THE PROPRIETRESS — THE INMATES — THE ARISTOCRACY OF SHAME — THE VISITORS- 
VISITS OF MARRIED MEN-AVERAGE LIFE OF A FASHIONABLE PROSTITUTE-THE NEXT 
STEP— THE SECOND-CLASS HOUSES— TERRORS OF THESE PLACES— THE GREENE STREET 
BAGNIOS-GOING DOWN INTO THE DEPTHS-THE NEXT STEP-THE WATER STREET HELLS 
—AVERAGE LIFE OF A PROSTITUTE-" THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH "—HOW YOUNG GIRLS 
ARE TEMPTED INTO SIN— EFFORTS TO SAVE AN ERRING DAUGHTER— THE STREET WALK- 
ERS— THE PANEL HOUSES— HOW MEN ARE ROBBED AND MURDERED IN THESE HOUSES— 
THE CONCERT SALOONS— THE WAITER GIRLS— THE DANCE HALLS— THE " BUCKINGHAM "— 
THE "cREMORNe"— BUCKINGHAM BALLS— ASSIGNATION HOUSES— PERSONALS— THE MID- 
NIGHT MISSION — REFORMATORY ESTABLISHMENTS — ABORTIONISTS — THE WICKEDEST 



WOMAN IN NEW YORK. 



474 



XIV 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 
JAY GOULD. 

EARLY LIFE OF THE GREAT FINANCIER — PERSONAL APPEARANCE — KNOWLEDGE OF LAW — 
ENTERS THE ERIE ROAD — BLACK FRIDAY — HOW GOULD CAME OUT OF IT — A SHREWD 
GAME IN "ERIE" — HIS WEALTH — ATTACKED IN WALL STREET — HIS METHOD OF OPER- 
ATING 496 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE NATIONAL GUARD. 

THE FIRST DIVISION — ITS ORGANIZATION — HOW ARMED — APPROPRIATIONS BY THE CITY — 
PRIVATE EXPENSES — THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF — EFFICIENCY OF THE TROOPS — PAST 
SERVICES OF THE FORCE — OVERAWING THE MOB — PUTTING DOWN RIOTS — A REINFORCE- 
MENT TO THE POLICE — DISCIPLINE— THE ARMORIES — THE SEVENTH REGIMENT ARMORY — 
PARADES 499 

CHAPTER XXXni. 
WILLIAM H. VANDERBILT. 

THE RICHEST MAN IN NEW YORK — EARLY LIFE — BECOMES A FARMER — ENTERS THE RAILROAD 
WORLD — BECOMES VICE-PRESIDENT OF THE NEW YORK CENTRAL SYSTEM — SUCCEEDS THE 
OLD COMMODORE — THE VANDERBILT PALACES — LOVE OF FAST HORSES. . . 503 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 
CRIME IN NEW YORK. 

PROFESSIONAL CRIMINALS — THEIR NUMBERS — THE THIEVES — SUPERINTENDENT WALLING's DE- 
SCRIPTION OF THEM — THE THIEF LANGUAGE — GRADES OF THIEVES — BURGLARS — BANK ROB- 
BERS — SNEAK THIEVES — CONFIDENCE MEN — HOW THEY OPERATE — THE PICKPOCKETS — 
WHERE THEY COME FROM — THE ROGUES' GALLERY — THE RIVER THIEVES — DARING CRIMES 
— THE FENCES — HOW STOLEN GOODS ARE DISPOSED OF — TRICKS OF THE FENCES — THE 
ROUGHS — BLACKMAILERS — HOW THEY FLEECE THEIR VICTIMS 506 

CHAPTER XXXV. 
CREEDMOOR. 

THE NATIONAL RIFLE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA — THE CREEDMOOR RANGE — THE GROUNDS 
— THE TARGETS— SHOOTING MATCHES — NATIONAL GUARD PRACTICE — AMATEUR MARKS- 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 
BAR-ROOMS. 

ARRESTS FOR DRUNKENNESS AND DISORDER — NUMBER OF LICENSED BAR-ROOMS — THE DRINK- 
ING CAPACITY OF WALL STREET — AMOUNT OF BEER DRANK — THE LARGEST BAR IN THE 
WORLD — AN ENORMOUS BUSINESS IN RUM — HIGH RENTS ASKED FOR EAR-ROOMS — THE ALL- 
NIGHT HOUSES — THE BUCKET-SHOPS — GREAT AMOUNT OF DRUNKENNESS — WOMEN AS 
DRINKERS — WHERE THEY GET THEIR LIQUOR. 530 



CONTENTS. XV 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 
HENRY BERGH. 

THE FRIEND OF THE BRUTE CREATION-ESTABLISHMENT OF THE "SOCIETY FOR THE PRE- 
VENTION OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS "-WORK OF MR. BERGH-HOW HE BECAME A TERROR 
TO TWO-LEGGED BRUTES— A NOBLE RECORD 534 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
THE EAST RIVER BRIDGE. 

TRAVEL AND TRAFFIC BETWEEN NEW YORK AND BROOKLYN-THE FERRIES-PLANS FOR A 

BRIDGE-THE WORK BEGUN-THE GREAT BRIDGE-THE TOWERS-THE BRIDGE PROPER 

-THE CENTRAL SPAN-THE CABLES-THE ANCHORAGES-THE APPROACHES-PLANS FOR 

537 
TRAVEL ACROSS THE BRIDGE 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 
GAMBLERS AND THEIR WAYS. 

LAW^ AGAINST GAMBLING-NUMBER OF GAMBLERS IN THE CITY-THE FARO BANKS-FIRST- 
CLASS ESTABLISHMENTS-SPLENDID VICE-THE BROADWAY HELLS-THE SKIN GAME- 
DANGERS OF SUCH PLACES-THE DAY HOUSES-POOL-SELLING-TRICKS OF POOL-SELLERS 
-LOTTERIES-HOW THEV ARE CONDUCTED-POLICY DEALING-AN INSIDE VIEW OF THE 

542 

GAME 

CHAPTER XL. 

THE HUDSON RIVER TUNNEL. 

A DARING UNDERTAKING-THE WORK BEGUN-ACCIDENTS-DESCRIPTION OF THE TUNNELS- 
THE PROPOSED DEPOT IN NEW YORK—PROSPECTS OF THE SCHEME. ... 55c 

• CHAPTER XLI. 

FASHIONABLE SHOPPING. 

FASHIONABLE STORES-HANDSOME GOODS-THE FIXED-PRICE SYSTEM-DETECTIVES ON THE 
WATCH— "STEWART'S"— ENORMOUS TRANSACTIONS THERE 55 

CHAPTER XLH. 
TENEMENT HOUSES. 

DENSITY OF POPULATION IN NEW YORK-NUMBER OF TENEMENT HOUSES AND '^HABITANTS 
-CAUSES OF LIVING IN TENEMENT HOUSES-HIGH RENTS-HOMES OF THE WORKING 
CLASS-HOPES FOR THE FUTURE-VARIETIES OF TENEMENT HOUSES-A SPECIMEN^-' -^ 



:KING— RENTS OF APARTMENTS— EVILS OF THE SYSTEM. 



559 



CHAPTER XLIII. 
JERRY McAULEY's MISSION. 

WATER STREET-THE MISSION-ITS SUCCESS-JERRY m'aULEY-THE REFORMED ™"^™;; 
M'AULEY-THE PRAYER-MEETINGS-THE AUDIENCE-JERRY m'AULEY's METHODS-A SCE^E 
AT A PRAYER-MEBTING— A WONDERFUL WORK 



Xvi . CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XLIV. 

METROPOLITAN AMUSEMENTS. 

THE PRINCIPAl. THEATRES— METROPOLITAN AUDIENCES— EXPENSES OF A FIRST-CLASS THEATRE 
—SALARIES OF ACTORS— PRODUCTION OF NEW PLAYS— LONG RUNS—" BOOTh's " THEATRE 
A MODEL ESTABLISHMENT— THE GRAND OPERA HOUSE— " WALLACk's "—" THE UNION 
SQUARE "— " DALY'S "—THE ACADEMY OF MUSIC— VARIETY THEATRES— THE GRAND 
duke's THEATRE— NEGRO MINSTRELS— CONCERTS— LECTURES. . . . . 57» 

CHAPTER XLV. 

LIFE UNDER THE SHADOW. 

POVERTY IN NEW YORK— THE DESERVING POOR— SAD SCENES— " RAGPICKERS* ROW "— HOW 
THE RAGPICKERS LIVE— AN ITALIAN COLONY— SOUR BEER— DRUNKENNESS IN " RAGPICK- 
ERS* row"— BOTTLE ALLEY— A RELIC OF THE FIVE POINTS— A WRETCHED QUARTER— 
THE DWELLINGS OF POVERTY— THE CELLARS— LIFE BELOW GROUND— BAXTER STREET— 
THE CHINESE MARTYR— A HOSPITAL FOR CATS SSl 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

THE METROPOLITAN PRESS. 

THE DAILY NEWSPAPERS— HOW THE LEADING JOURNALS ARE CONDUCTED— THE VARIOUS DE- 
PARTMENTS—PRINTING-HOUSE SQUARE— editors' SALARIES— THE " NEW YORK HERALD " 

THE HERALD OFFICE — JAMES GORDON BENNETT — CIRCULATION OF "THE HERALD " — 

THE TRIBUNE "THE TALL TOWER "—WHITELAW REID— PROFITS OF "THE TRIBUNE"— 
"THE TIMES," THE LEADING REPUBLICAN JOURNAL— " THE SUN," A LIVELY PAPER- 
CHARLES A. DANA— PROFITS OF "THE SUN "—THE EVENING PAPERS— WEEKLIES— MAGA- 
ZINES 59^ 

CHAPTER XLVII. 
THE FIRE DEPARTMENT. 

THE METROPOLITAN FIRE DEPARTMENT— FIREMAN'S HALL— THE BOARD OF FIRE COMMIS- 
SIONERS—DIVISIONS OF THE DEPARTMENT— THE FORCE— UNIFORM— THE ENGINE-HOUSES 
—INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS— THE ENGINES— THE HORSES— HOW THEY ARE TRAINED— 
THE SIGNAL TOWERS— THE ALARM BOXES— FIRE DISTRICTS— THE FORCE ON DUTY— SCENES 
AT A FIRE— THE INSURANCE PATROL AND ITS DUTIES— THE " FIRE DEPARTMENT RELIEF 
fund"— LIFE OF A NEW YORK FIREMAN— HEROIC DEEDS 602 

CHAPTER XLVIII. 
HARRY hill's. 

THE BEST KNOWN DANCE-HOUSE IN NEW YORK— THE HALL— THE AUDIENCE— THE FEMALE 
VISITORS— THE PERFORMANCES— DANCING— HARRY HILL— THE MIDNIGHT HOUR— HARRY 
HILL ON DUTY '^ 

CHAPTER XLIX. 
JOHN KELLY. 

"BOSS KELLY"— BIRTH AND EARLY LIFE— EDUCATION— BEGINS LIFE AS A STONE-CUTTER- 
ENTERS POLITICAL LIFE— BECOMES AN ALDERMAN— ELECTED TO CONGRESS— HIS CAREER 
IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES — IS ELECTED SHERIFF — LOSS OF HIS FAMILY— 



CONTENTS. XVll 



ASSISTS IN OVERTHROWING THE T\VE*:D RING — LEADER OF TAMMANY HALL — APPOINTED 
COMPTROLLER — REMOVAL FROM OFFICE — PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS. . . 6l6 



CHAPTER L. 

RELIGION IN NEW YORK. 



NUMBER OF CHURCHES IN NEW YORK — VALUE OF CHURCH PROPERTY — THE DUTCH REFORMED 
CHURCH — THE EPISCOPALIANS — GRACE CHURCH — ST. THOMAS's — "THE LITTLE CHURCH 
AROUND THE CORNER " — THE LUTHERANS — THE PRESUYTERIANS — THE FIFTH AVENUE 
CHURCH — THE BAPTISTS — THE METHODISTS — ST. PAUL's CHURCH — THE CONGREGATIONAL- 
ISTS — THE QUAKERS — THE UNITARIANS — THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH — ST. STEPHEN'S — 

ST. Patrick's cathedral — the jews — the temple emanu-el — lower new vork des- 
titute OF CHURCHES — FASHIONABLE RELIGION — STRANGERS IN CHURCH — THE MUSIC — 
PROFESSIONAL SINGERS — A TENOR'S SENSATION — THE FIFTH AVENUE PROMENADE — PEW 
RENTS — CHURCH DEBTS — RECKLESS EXTRAVAGANCE. 62O 



CHAPTER LI. 
ALONG THE BOWERY. 

ORIGIN OF THE NAME OF THE STREET — NOTABLE BUILDINGS — CHEAP RETAIL SHOPS — BEER 
SALOONS — CONCERT HALLS — THE JEWS — THE BOWERY BECOMING GERMANIZED — THK BOW- 
ERY IN BY-GONE DAYS — THE " BOWERY BOY " — THE " BOWERY GIRl" — A. GORGEOUS CREA- 
TURE — SUNDAY IN THE BOWERY — NIGHT SCENES IN THE BOWERY^THE STREET-WALKERS 
— THE GERMAN BEER GARDENS — THE SHOOTING-GALLERIES — THE THEATRES. . 639 

CHAPTER LIL 
NEW YORK HOTELS. 

GREAT NUMBER OF HOTELS IN NEW YORK — FIRST-CLASS HOTELS— THE AMERICAN AND EURO- 
PEAN PLANS — THE ASTOR HOUSE — THE ST. NICHOLAS — THE METROPOLITAN — THE GRAND 
CENTRAL — THE NEW YORK — THE FIFTH AVENUE — THE WINDSOR — OTHER HOTELS — INTE- 
RIOR ARRANGEMENTS — NIGHT SCENES — COST OF FURNISHING A HOTEL — DEAD BEATS — 
HOW THE DETECTIVES WATCH SUSPICIOUS CHARACTERS. 645 

CHAPTER LHI. 
THE TRAMPS. 

NEW YORK THE PARADISE OF TRAMPS— WHO THEY ARE— THEIR MODE OF LIFE— WORTHLESS 
CHARACTERS— SLEEPING IN THE PARK— THE TRAMPs' ABLUTIONS— THE TRAMPS' LODGING- 
HOUSE — UNFORTUNATE WANDERERS 652 

CHAPTER LIV. 
THE POST-OFFICE. 

THE MODEL POST-OFFICE OF THE UNION — THE BUILDING — THE POST-SFFICE PROPER — THE 
BOX AND STAMP DEPARTMENT — INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS OF THE POST-OFFICE — BUSI- 
NESS OF THE OFFICE- HOW THE WORK IS CONDUCTED — DESPATCHING THE MAILS — 

"steamer day" — guicK work 656 



XVlll 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER LV. 

CASTLE GARDEN. 



THE BUILDING — THE OLD FORT — EARLV HISTORY OF CASTLE GARDEN — BECOMES AN EMIGRANT 
DEPOT — ARRIVALS OF FOREIGN STEAMERS — LANDING THE EMIGRANTS — AVERAGE WEALTH 
OF THE NEW-COMERS — PASSING THE SURGEON — REGISTERING EMIGRANTS — INTERNAL AR- 
RANGEMENTS OF CASTLE GARDEN 66o 



CHAPTER LVI. 
THE MARKETS OF NEW YORK. 

THE MARKET-HOUSES — UNSIGHTLY STRUCTURES — THE MANHATTAN MARKET — SCENES IN THE 
MARKETS — NEW YORK's SOURCE OF SUPPLY — THE MORNING HOURS — SATURDAY-NIGHT 
MARKETS — THE OYSTER-SALOONS — FULTON MARKET — THE " CORNER GROCERIES." 663 

CHAPTER LVII. 
THE CROTON WATER-WORKS. 

THE SOURCE OF NEW YORK's WATER SUPPLY — CROTON LAKE — THE CROTON AQUEDUCT — A WON- 
DERFUL WORK — THE HIGH BRIDGE — THE " HIGH SERVICE " SYSTEM — THE CENTRAL PARK 
RESERVOIRS — HOW THE WATER IS SUPPLIED TO THE CITY — ENORMOUS WASTE. . 667 



NEW YORK 

BY 

SUNLIGHT AND GASLIGHT. 



CHAPTER L 

THE GREAT METROPOLIS. 

GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF NEW YORK CITY— LOCATION— NATURAL ADVANTAGES— COMMERCIAL 
ADVANTAGES— THE STREETS— EUILDINGS—CLIMATE—HEALTHFULNESS— MORTALITY— RAFID 
GROWTH OF THE CITY— LOFTY BUILDINGS— DESCRIPTION OF THE MOST NOTED AND THE 
HIGHEST STRUCTURES IN THE CITY— REASONS FOR BUILDING SO HIGH— LAND CHEAP UP 
STAIRS. 

New York, the commercial metropolis of America, 
is also the largest city of the Western Hemisphere. 
It lies at the mouth of the Hudson River, and occupies 
the whole of Manhattan Island, Randall's, Wards, and 
Blackwell's Islands, in the East River, Bedloe's, Ellis's 
and Governor's Islands in the Bay, and a portion of the 
main land of West Chester County, north of Manhattan 
Island, and separated from it by the Harlem River and 
Spuyten Duyvel Creek. Its extreme length northward 
from the Battery is sixteen miles; its greatest width, 
from the Hudson to the mouth of the Bronx River, is 
four and a half miles; thus giving it an area of forty- 
one and a half square miles, or twenty-six thousand five 
hundred acres. Of these, twelve thousand one hundred 
acres are on the main land. The city proper— the true 
2 33 



34 



NEW YORK. 



New York — stands on Manhattan Island, which is 
thirteen and a half miles in length, and varies in 
breadth from a few hundred yards to two and a half 
miles. It has an area of nearly twenty-two square 
miles, or about fourteen thousand square acres. The 
island is irregfular in formation, havino; somewhat the 
shape of a fan. It is very narrow at The Battery, its 
southern end, and widens rapidly as it proceeds north- 
ward. Its extreme length on the western or Hudson 
River side is thirteen and a half miles, while on the East 
River side it is nine miles long. It attains its greatest 
breadth at Fourteenth and Eighty-seventh streets, 
where it is about two and a half miles wide. At The 
Battery the land is but a few inches above the surface 
of the water, but from that point it rises steadily until 
it reaches its northern limit, at Washington Heights, a 
range of bold and beautiful cliffs, 130 feet above the 
Hudson. The lower part of the island is sandy; the 
upper part very rocky. Several bridges over the Har- 
lem River and Spuyten Duyvel Creek afford connection 
with the main land, and numerous lines of ferry boats 
maintain constant intercourse on the Long Island and 
New Jersey shores. The city is compactly built along 
the western side, from the Battery to Fifty-ninth street, 
the lower end of the Central Park. From that point 
to Manhattanville, One Hundred and Twenty-fifth 
street, the buildings are straggling, and above Man- 
hattanville the west side is very rural, abounding in 
country seats, market gardens and miniature farms. 
The east side is built up compactly almost the whole 
way, there being only about two miles of space that 
does not merit this description. 



HOW NEW YORK IS BUILT. 35 

Situated between two broad, deep rivers, and within 
sixteen miles of the sea, upon which it looks out from 
the safety of its well-sheltered harbor, Manhattan Is- 
land was designed by nature as the seat of a crreat 
commercial metropolis. Its waters are deep enough 
for the largest vessels, and in its commodious harbor 
the fleets of the world could ride at ease. It commands 
all the chief routes of communication with the ereat 
West and South, and steam and electricity have enabled 
it to reach the various quarters of the globe as easily 
and as quickly as any of its old world rivals. 

New York is a magnificently built city. The lower 
portion is a dense mass of houses, with narrow and 
often crooked streets. This is the business quarter, 
and is not so thickly populated as the middle districts. 
Above Canal street the streets assume a more regular 
formation. They are broad and straight, crossing each 
other at right angles, and are laid off at regular inter- 
vals. In the lower portion of the city all the streets 
are designated by names. Above Houston street, the 
cross streets, or those extending from river to river, are 
designated by numbers. The avenues start from about 
Third street, and extend to the northern end of the 
island. The city is substantially, as well as handsomely 
built. It contains few frame houses, the prevailing 
materials being marble, stone, iron and brick. Marble, 
iron, and the lighter colored stones are used principally 
in the construction of business edifices, but the resi- 
dences are chiefly of brick and brown stone. Land be- 
ing very high in price, the buildings are generally lofty, 
often reachinor an altitude of seven and eigrht, and some- 
times ten and twelve stories. The business edifices 



3(3 NEW YORK. 

have generally two cellars below the pavement, with 
vaults extending out under the street. These are dry, 
are well lighted and ventilated, and are used for the 
storage of goods. As a rule, the business houses of 
the city are handsome and elegant. Every convenience 
is provided for the prompt and proper despatch of the 
business of the establishment. Time is everything in 
New York, and nothing is neglected that can possibly 
aid in saving it. Within these magnificent edifices is 
gathered the wealth of the world. Compared with the 
treasures they contain, the fabled wealth of Tyre of old 
sinks into insignificance. The private residences of the 
city are among the handsomest in the world, and, as a 
rule, are furnished with elegance and taste. The city 
has all the substantial appearance of London, and a 
large part of the brightness and beauty of Pans. It 
is a worthy rival to either, and is in many respects their 

superior. 

New York is highly favored as regards its clima... 

Its proximity to the sea mitigates the cold of the win- 
ters, and the cool ocean breezes temper the fierce heats 
of the summer In the latter season the lower part of 
the city may be stifling, but above Thirty-fourth street, 
and in all the upper quarters, the breeze is constant and 
refreshing. If New York were not a great city it would 
unquestionably be the principal watering place of the 
continent. Snow rarely lies in its streets, and the 
people consider themselves in high good fortune when 
the winter is sufficiently cold to hold the snow long 
enough to give them a few days of sleighing. 

I hive said that New York combines the solidity of 
London with the beauty of Paris. Over it hangs a sky 



MORTALITY. 



bluer and clearer than that of Italy. Days will pass 
without a cloud to mar the calm blue depths above, and 
against this exquisite background the spires and domes 
of the city stand out as clear and sharply defined as if 
cut on a cameo. 

Possessing such a climate, drained by such broad, 
deep rivers, New York cannot be other than healthy. 
The death rate compares favorably with that of other 
cities. It is largest during the summer months. At 
this period children swell the list of deaths to a high 
ficrure. The great infandle mortality occurs in the 
tenement districts. The largest number of deaths oc- 
cur from diarrhoeal disease. The Nczv York Tribune, 
some time since, thus summed up the most interesting 
facts in relation to this subject, as gained from a report 
of the Board of Health . — 

"The great infantile mortality occurs mainly in the 
tenement districts. The largest number of cases of 
death from diarrhoeal disease have been reported from 
the Nineteenth Ward. The Thirteenth, Fourteenth, 
Sixteenth, Twenty-first, Twenty-second, and Twenty- 
fourth Wards follow closely. The other Wards have 
been comparatively free from deaths of this sort. The 
greatest number of cases of diarrhoeal disease have 
been found in tenements containing from eight to ten 
families, but the locadon has had considerable influence 
upon the death rate. Very few if any cases of death 
from this cause have been reported from houses con- 
taining only one family. A prominent physician said 
recently that poverty and neglect are the true causes 
of the large mortality among children under five years 
of acre. The hard times and the scarcity of work com- 



38 NEW YORK. 

pel the mothers to search for work, to labor from morn- 
ing until night in order to obtain the means of bare 
subsistence. The infant, at the most critical time of its 
life, is left to the uncertain care of one of the other 
children, and is sure to be neglected. It is scantily fed, 
and what food it gets is of such a bad quality that in- 
stead of nourishing it only irritates the alimentary canal. 
The hot weather attacks, with its debilitating influences, 
the poorly fed, weakened constitution of the neglected 
child, and it is hurried into its grave. 

" There is a large part of this city — that covering the 
central division of the island, between Third and Eighth, 
avenues — which is considered by physicians to be as 
healthy as any part of this country. This quarter is 
well-drained, and there are very few tenements within 
its boundaries. The mortality in this district has always 
been very small. There have been very few cases of 
diphtheria or smallpox reported within its limits, and 
hardly any deaths from diarrhoeal diseases. On the east 
side of the city tenements are thickly planted, some of 
them being crowded with more than fifty families. 
Here the deaths from diarrhoeal diseases reach an ap- 
palling number. The infants three months old die in 
hosts, and those from nine to twelve months of age, to- 
gether with those who are passing through the period 
of dentition, perish in large numbers. On the west 
side of the city, also, there are many large and badly 
constructed tenements, where the mortality has always 
been very great in hot weather. 

"Physicians who attend the sick in the tenements give 
pitiful statements of poverty and want that prevail so 
largely. One physician said that he had a case where 



UPWARD GROWTH OF THE CITY. 39 

the infant each day was fed upon only one tablespoon- 
ful of condensed milk dissolved in a quart of water. 
It lived upon this daily supply for six months, growing 
thinner daily, and then died. The mothers, he added, 
are not able to supply their offspring with natural food, 
in which case the infant is fed upon condensed milk, 
for they are so poorly fed themselves that they can give 
litde nourishment to their children. In either case, 
what should be nourishment is only an irritant, and the 
child dies of some one of the many forms of diarrhoeal 
disease. In the tenement districts it is easy to point 
out the infants that are rapidly passing Into their graves 
from the want of proper nourishment. Their faces 
look pinched and drawn. Besides the want of proper 
nourishment, neglect of cleanliness and want of suit- 
able clothing add to the other causes that are hurrying 
so many to death." 

New York grows rapidly. In spite of the trying 
times that have afflicted the whole country since the 
panic of 1873, the city has grown steadily, and has 
improved in a marked degree. One of the most not- 
able features of this growth is the iLpward tendency of 
the new structures. Land is so dear that property 
owners endeavor to build as lofty edifices as their 
means will permit, in order to offset the lack of ground 
and space. An old resident of the city writes as fol- 
lows concerning this feature of New York architecture: 
"The manner in which New York city has grown 
upward, or rather skyward, during the past ten and 
fifteen years, has heretofore attracted the attention of 
visitors to the American metropolis. It is just now a 
subject of considerable discussion among architects 



40 NEW YORK. 

and builders, who are busily engaged in drawing plans 
for numerous new buildings to be erected within the 
city precincts during the coming twelve months, now 
that labor and material are cheaper than they have 
been for several years. This growth of New York in 
altitude is particularly noticeable in the lower part of 
the city, from the Battery to Canal street, where high 
buildings, averaging ninety to one hundred feet, have 
taken the place of small structures and of those- not 
higher than forty-five to fifty feet. Some eight years 
ago, as one looked from the ferry-boats of either the 
North or East River, or from the bay, the then new 
Herald Building, on Broadway, towered many feet 
above the mass of adjoining structures. Now it is in- 
distinguishable from either point named, the neighbor- 
ing buildings entirely overshadowing it. 

"This growth of New York thus illustrated in height 
is attributed by the architects to the high price at which 
each foot of real estate is held all over the island, and 
notably in the lower section of the city; but it has also 
been gready facilitated by the use of elevators, which 
enable some of the most prominent firms to occupy 
offices on the fourth and fifth floors, and even higher 
floors, where only a few years ago they would not en- 
tertain the idea of asking their customers to call upon 
them above the second story. This "mania" for high 
buildings, which the architects as yet regard only in its 
infancy, is, however, not original with New York; the 
new part of the city of Edinburgh, in Scotland, being 
full of buildings ten and eleven stories high. There, 
however, the stories do not average over nine feet, 
while high basements and sub-cellars, like those of New 



ARCHITECTURAL CHANGES. 41 

York, are unknown. Old architects state that they can 
hardly conceive the wonderful changes, wrought mainly 
by their own hands, on taking a retrospect of the city 
of their youth, and they stand amazed at the giant 
structures rising all over the city to take the place of 
buildings which less than twenty years ago were con- 
sidered ornaments of New York. Forty years ago, 
when Grifhth Thomas. arrived in New York, he says he 
found only two architects here, Messrs. Dacon and 
Davis. To-day there are about five hundred architects 
in this city ; and the practice, then quite general, of a 
builder's making his own plans and designs is entirely 
abandoned. Thirty years ago Mr. Renwick, then only 
twenty-three years old, built Grace Church, at Tenth 
street and Broadway, as the building, forty feet high, 
formerly occupied by that congregation at Rector street 
and Broadway had to be changed into offices; it was 
in 1846 that Dr. Wainwright and Dr. Taylor preached 
their last sermons in the old church, which was soon 
changed to an eighty-feet building. In the immediate 
vicinity of the old Grace Church used to stand Bunker's 
Hotel, a well-known landmark of the time. It was 
surrounded by buildings all three stories high ; to-day 
not a vestige remains of any of these small buildings, 
and the lower part of Broadway is filled with structures 
ranging from six to seven stories. One of the highest 
residences of New York, on Broadway, at the time 
named was the house occupied by John F. Delaplame. 
It was forty-five feet high, and considerably over- 
shadowed the adjoining two-story residence. The 
ground is to-day occupied by what is known as the 
Exchange Building, at Nos. 78 and So Broadway, which 



42 NEW YORK. 

is filled with offices, and is not less than eighty-five feet 
high. The Franklin House — which was considered a 
rather high building, being sixty feet in height — at Dey 
street, and Broadway, has had to make room for the 
building of the Western Union Telegraph Company, 
which is one hundred and sixty feet in height to the 
roof (the tower being two hundred and thirty feet 
above the sidewalk). On the other side of Broadway, 
the Park Bank Building, ninety-five feet high, has now 
for several years overlapped The Herald office, and 
these two again have been recently overtopped by the 
nine-story building of The Evening Post. 

"On the side streets, the same principle of building 
upward appears to have guided the various improve- 
ments, even the old Tontine Building, at Wall and Wa- 
ter streets, having been raised fifteen feet higher than 
it was formerly, when the old coffee-house attracted the 
attention and the cash of old New Yorkers. The staid 
old Bank of New York, at William and Wall streets, 
where Commodore Vanderbilt could always be found at 
certain hours of the day, during his latter years, is now 
a six-story building, where before only two stories were 
considered ample accommodation for all those trans- 
acting business within its walls. The Drexel Building, 
at Broad and Wall streets, with its high basement and 
seven stories, looms up gigantically on the spot where 
only a few years ago stood an unpretending three-story 
building — which, however, was sold for the highest price 
ever paid for real estate in New York — while the Stock 
Exchange, right across Broad street, is fully eighty-five 
feet high, and has taken the place of a number of brick 
stores thirty feet less in height. The beautiful white 




EVENING POST BUILDING. 



44 



NEW YORK. 



marble building at Nos. 50 and 52 Wall street, is now 
eighty feet high, while it measured only sixty a few 
years back ; while the Union Bank, at Pine and William 
streets, has had its height increased twenty feet. The 
MetropoHtan Bank, on the corner of Pine street, is a 




NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE. 



building eighty feet high, and stands upon a lot previ- 
ously occupied by a house of fifty feet. 

"The corner of Leonard street and Broadway used 
to be marked by the old Athenaeum, with its peculiar 
pillars and low ceilings. Messrs. Appleton had their 



STATELY BUILDINGS. 



45 



place of business there for some time, and removed to 
make room for the stately building now owned and 
occupied by the New York Life Insurance Company. 
This building, erected by Thomas and finished in 1868, 
has four stories in front and eight in the back, and part 
of it stands on very high ground. The Knickerbocker 
Life Insurance Company's building on the corner of 




UKANCE COMPANY S BUILDING. 



Park Place is ninety-five feet high, and has taken 
the place of some four-story brick houses, where the 
Mechanics' Library Association, in times past, kept its 
books and held its meetings. 

" But not only are there high buildings occupied by 
public institutions, insurance companies, banks, and 
newspaper offices; throughout the lower part of the 



46 NEW YORK. 

city there are many buildings six and seven, often eight 
stories high, used as warehouses, especially by dry 
goods firms. In Walker street, between Cordandt 
alley and Elm street, are several six and seven-story 
buildings on the ground where once stood the St. 
Matthew's (German Lutheran) Church. The stores at 
Nos. 555 and 557 Broadway, ninety feet high, have 
taken the place of several very diminutive establish- 
ments, and the upholsterers' warehouse of Sloane and 
Solomon are also ninety feet high, instead of the three- 
story buildings of fifteen years ago. Baxter's high 
building of six stories and mansard roof, at Canal and 
Mulberry streets, has taken the place of numerous 
small shanties, which looked anything but attractive 
before East Canal street was made the street it is to-day. 
On the spot where Samuel Ward, "the King of the 
Lobby," was born, in the two-story and attic building 
erected by his father, John Ward, is now the establish- 
ment of Brooks Brothers, fully ninety-five feet high. 

"The corner of Fourteenth street and Union Square, 
where once stood the residence of the late Judge Roose- 
velt's brother, fifty feet in height, is now occupied by 
the Domestic Building, which is one hundred and twelve 
feet high. A few doors west, the new building of the 
Wheeler and Wilson Manufacturing Company, one 
hundred feet high, has taken the place of the Old 
Maison Doree, which was a low building not over forty- 
five feet in height. Tiffany's store, at Fifteenth street 
and Union Square, with its roof ninety feet from the 
sidewalk, fills the place formerly occupied by the Rev. 
Dr. Cheever's Church — the Church of the Puritans — 
the roof of which was only thirty-five feet from the 



\ 




DOMESTIC SEWING MACHINE BUILDING. 



48 



NEW YORK. 



ground. Across the Square, on the corner of East 
Fourteenth street, the German Savings Bank building 
of ninety feet, with its mansard and high basement, 
has replaced the old Belvidere Hotel, while a block 
further up, on the corner of East Fifteenth street, the 

Union Square Hotel, 
remodeled, has had forty 
feet added to its height. 
The building owned by 
the Sing-er Sewing- Ma- 
chine Company, at East 
Sixteenth street and 
Union Square, is nearly 
'^ one hundred feet high, 
while looking beyond 
the Square, the eye 
takes in at once the 
prominent store of Ar- 
nold, Constable & Co., 
filling the entire block 
between Eighteenth 
and Nineteenth streets, 
on the ground where 
only a very few years 
ago stood nothing but 
two-story shanties. 
" Further up town the 
Stevens Apartment House, at Twenty-seventh street 
and Fifth avenue, attracts attention by its extraordinary 
height, one hundred and ten feet, where before stood 
only three and four-story houses, and on the corner of 
Forty-seventh street a number of three-story houses 




TRIBUNE BUILDING. 



REMARKABLE HEIGHT OF BUILDINGS. 



49 



have made room for Brewster's high factory, of eighty 
feet. It is doubtful if any new buildings up town will 
surpass in height the new Roman Catholic Cathedral, 
which is one hundred and forty-five feet to the top of 
the roof, 

" In order to show the upward progress made in the 
growth of New York during the past ten years, build- 
ings like the Fifth Avenue Hotel Grand Opera House, 








STAATS-ZEITUNO BUILDING. 



Claflin's Warehouses, and others, have been omitted 
from this enumeration. These v/ere erected at inter- 
vals, and not in such rapid succession, as, for instance, 
the Equitable Life Building with its one hundred and 
sixty-four feet of height, 'The Tribune Building' of 
one hundred and seventy-one feet, 'The Evening Post,' 
with its nine stories, 'The Staats-Zeitung,' with its 
one hundred feet, and the building of the Delaware 



50 NEW YORK. 

and Hudson Canal Company, in Cortlandt street. 
All these, taken in connection with those mentioned 
above, have fully doubled the capacity of New York for 
accommodating all those who desire to transact busmess 
within its borders, while at the same time not an inch 
more ground has been taken for that purpose than was 
the case before this increase in altitude set in. On the 
contrary, it is believed that, owing to the widening of 
streets, like South Fifth avenue and New Church street, 
as well' as New Chambers street and the New Bowery, 
there is actually to-day less ground occupied by build- 
ings, small and large, down town, than fifteen years ago. 
And yet there Is considerably more room for all pur- 
poses of business.'.' 



RAPID GROWTH IN POPULATION. 51 



CHAPTER II. 

THE PEOPLE OF NEW YORK. 

POPULATION OF NEW YORK IN 1870— THE STATE CENSUS OF 1875— WHAT CH ANGES IT SHOWEIV- POPTJ- 
LATIQN IN 1880 — POPULATION AFFECTED BY THE IMPROVEMENTS IN THE LOWER PART OP THE 
CITY — THE MOST DENSELY SETTLED PART OF N£W YORK — THE FLOATING POPULATION — 
STRANGERS IN NEW VORKr— FOREIGN DISTRICTS — COSMOPOLITAN CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE 
— CHARACTERISTICS OF NEW YORKERS — LACK OF PUBLIC SPIRIT — INDIFFERENCE TO POLITI- 
CAL AFFAIRS — THE RESULT — THE RACE FOR WEALTH — HOW BUSINESS IS DONE IN NEW YORK — 
WEARING OUT BODY AND SOUL — A PHILOSOPHICAL MERCHANT — A NEW COMER'S IMPRESSIONS 
— LIVING TOO FAST — NO CHANCE FOR LAGGARDS — HOW SUCCESS IS WON — MERIT THE TEST — 
NKW YORK FROM A MORAL POINT OF VIEW — ITS CHARITIES AND BENEVOLENCE — TOLERATION 
OF OPINIONS AND BELIEFS — MENTAL CULTURE OF THE PEOPLE — WHAT IT COSTS TO LIVE IN 
NEW YORK— THE RICH AND THE MIDDLE CLASSES — NEW YORK AS A PLACE OF RESIDENCE — 
ATTACHMENT OF THE PEOPLE TO THE CITY. 

According to the Ninth Census of the United States, 
the population of New York in 1870 was 973,106 souls. 
This return was not satisfactory to the citizens of the 
Metropolis, who claimed that it greatly under-estimated 
the actual number of residents. In the summer of 1875 
a census of the city was taken, by order of the Legis- 
lature of the State. This enumeration showed the 
population in that year to be 1,064,272, an increase of 
91,1 66 inhabitants since 1870. In 1880, the Tenth Cen- 
sus of the United States gave the population as 1,209, 

561. 

The census of 1875 ^^^ deeply interesting, imper- 
fect as it was conceded to be. It showed many changes 
in various portions of the city, recording a gain for 
some sections and a decrease for others. The falling 
off was mainly in the lower wards, where business 
houses predominate. In the strictly commercial quar- 
ters dwellings are very rare, and the population is made 
up almost entirely of janitors and their families, who 



52 NEW YORK. 

occupy the upper floors of business houses and public 
buildings. The population of the Sixth Ward was 
shown to be i lOO less in 1875 than in 1870. In 1880 
it had regained about 1 50 of its loss. This Is one of 
the most wretched and wicked sections of the city; "the 
Five Points " is Its centre. For some years It has been 
improving in character, though "the Five Points " and 
Baxter street are bad enough yet. During the past 
ten or twelve years many of its old haunts have been 
broken up, numerous factories and business establish- 
ments have been erected on their sites, and Worth 
street has been widened and opened from Broadway to 
the Bowery, making a clear, wide path through what 
was once an eyesore to the city and a chosen haunt of 
vice and crime. In 1875 the greatest Increase was in 
the wards adjoining the Central Park, in which the gain 
v/as over fifty thousand, and in 1880 the increase was 
proportionally larger. This is accounted for by the 
steady up-town movement of the population, which will 
no doubt be greatly accelerated by the elevated rail- 
roads, which now bring all parts of the city within easy 
and rapid reach of each other. The largest increase 
of all, in 1875, was In the Nineteenth Ward, which lies 
east of the Sixth avenue, and between Fortieth and 
Eightieth streets. In 1870 the population of this 
ward was 86,090, In 1875 it was 125,196, showing an 
increase of 39,106 in five years. In 1880 it had reached 
the enormous figure of 158,108 inhabitants, thus gain- 
ing 32,912 people since 1875, ^^ 72,018 in ten years. 

The most densely populated portion of New York 
is the region embraced In the Seventh, Tenth, and 
Thirteenth wards, which lie upon either side of East 



ACrUAL POPULATION OF THE CITY. 53 

Broadway and Grand street, in the extreme lower part 
of the city, and cover a comparatively small area. In 
1870 these wards contained 119,603 inhabitants, and a 
further increase seemed impossible, so densely were 
they packed. Yet in 1875 the population numbered 
124,093, and in 1880 it was 135,456. It is believed 
that some of the blocks within this section are more 
densely populated than those of any European city. 
Yet in ten years the increase of the district was 

15.843- 

The census of 1875, as has been said, did not fairly 
represent the population of the city at that time. It 
was taken in the summer, when large numbers of peo- 
ple were absent, and it was asserted that many of the 
persons entrusted with making enumerations were 
incompetent to their task. The census of 1880 was 
taken with more care, and more faithfully represents 
the actual number of inhabitants. 

In a fair estimate of the people of New York, one 
must add to the number of actual residents, the stran- 
gers temporarily residing in the metropolis, and the im- 
mense number of persons who enter and leave the city 
every day in the year. It is estimated that there are more 
than seventy thousand strangers from distant parts of 
the country temporarily sojourning in New York at all 
periods of the year. Thousands of persons doing busi- 
ness in the City, and residing in the suburbs, are not 
counted in the population. They come from Brooklyn 
and Long Island, from Staten Island, from the main- 
land of New York, from New Jersey, and even from 
Connecticut. They crowd the trains and the ferry 
boats, and pour into the city in the morning and leave 



54 NEW YORK. 

it in the afternoon, with clock-like regrilarity. To 
these also must be added the persons of both sexes and 
all ages, who come into the city to do a day's shopping, 
or to attend the matinees of the theatres and other 
places of amusement, or to visit friends. It is estimated 
that at high noon, on any fair day during the season, 
the Island of New York contains at least two njillions 
of people. 

In 1880 the native population was 727,743, and the 
foreign 478.834. 

The annual number of births in New York Is about 
40,000. The number of deaths in 1880 was 31,937. 

The foreign classes generally congregate in distinct 
quarters of the city, which they seem to regard as their 
own, as they constitute the majority of the dwellers in these 
sections, and give to them their leading characteristics. 
In certain portions, whole blocks may be found in which 
English is rarely heard, the dwellers using the tongues 
of their native countries in their intercourse with each 
other, and having little communication with their 
neighbors. 

The people of New York represent every nation- 
ality upon the globe, and thus give to the city the cos- 
mopolitan character which is one of its most prominent 
features. But no city on the continent is so thoroughly 
American as this. The native population is the ruling 
element, and makes the great city what it is, whether 
for good or for evil. The children and grandchildren 
of foreigners soon lose their old world ideas and habits, 
and the third generation sees them as genuine and de- 
voted Americans as any on the Island. 

The besetting sin of the people of New York is their 



THE RACE FOR WEALTH. 55 

lack of public spirit. The race for wealth, the very 
struggle for existence, is so eager and intense here, 
that the people think little of public affairs, and leave 
their city government, with all its vast interests, in the 
hands of a few professional , politicians. They pay 
dearly for this neglect of such important interests. 
They are taxed and plundered by rings and tricksters, 
and are forced to bear burdens and submit to losses 
which could be avoided by a more patriotic and sen- 
sible treatment of their affairs. Business men here re- 
gard the time spent in casting their votes at the polls, 
or in arranging a political canvass so that good men 
only shall be secured for public officers, as so much 
time lost. They say they cannot afford to take it from 
their business. The result is they are put to greater 
loss by unnecessary and unjust taxes. 

The race for wealth is a very exciting one in the 
great city. The interests at stake are so vast, the 
competition so constant and close, that men are com- 
pelled to be on the watch all the time, and to work 
with rapidity and almost without rest. Business hours 
are from nine until five. In the laro^er establishments 
but little is done after four o'clock, except at certain 
seasons. Durinof these seven or eiofht hours the work 
of twenty-four is done. Every nerve, every muscle, 
every power and faculty of body and mind, is taxed to 
the utmost to discharge the duty of the day. Go into 
any of the large establishments of the city during busi- 
ness hours, and you will be amazed at the ceaseless 
rush and push of clerks and customers. It is one un- 
ending drive. Everything must be finished up to the 
closing hour, so that the morrow may be begun with a 



56 NEW YORK. 

series of new and clear transactions. Merchants from 
other cities coming into these estabhshments to make 
purchases, find themselves caught in this whirl of work, 
and are carried along and made to decide questions 
and make purchases with a rapidity utterly unknown 
to them in their own homes. 

Two merchants from a Western city met one night, 
not long since, in the sitting-room of the St. Nicholas 
Hotel. 

"How do you get on with your purchases?" asked 
one of the other. 

" I am through buying," was the reply. 

"Going home to-morrow, then, I suppose?" 

" No ; I shall not dg so for several days yet. The 
truth is I am tired, and I want to rest. I used to go 
back home as soon as I had finished my business here, 
and when I got there I invariably found myself too 
tired to do anything for several days. I couldn't un- 
derstand it. It was the same thing year after year, 
and I set to work to think it out. I know now that it 
is the effect of the hard work I do here in a few days, 
I come here, stay a week, and during that time do an 
amount of work, both physical and mental, greater 
than I would undergo in a month at home. Now, in- 
stead of going home as soon as I am done, I stay here 
and rest ; go out to the Central Park, and loaf for a 
whole afternoon; take a ride on the steamer up the 
East River; go down to Coney Island, or down the 
Bay, and amuse myself in every way I can. Then I 
go home bright and fresh, and able to take hold of my 
work there properly." 

The clerks in the large houses of the city have a 



LIVING TOO FAST. 57 

weary, jaded look, always. The heads of the houses 
have the same expression intensified. They are always 
tired. They crowd too much work into a day. The 
result is that New York can show comparatively few 
old merchants or clerks. They cannot always stand 
the strain upon them, and die off by hundreds, at a time 
of life when they ought to be looking forward to a 
hearty old age. 

A gentleman once said to the writer of these pages : 
" I came to New York at the close of our civil war, to 
seek employment. I came up the Bay from Monmouth 
County, New Jersey, full of hope and confidence. The 
sail up the broad blue water gave new life to this feel- 
ing. I knew I was competent, and I was resolved to suc- 
ceed. I landed at Pier Number One, near the Battery, 
and taking up my valise started up town. I turned 
into Broadway at the Bowling Green, and as I did so, 
found myself in a steady stream of human beings, each 
hurrying by as if his life depended upon his speed, tak- 
ing no notice of his fellows, pushing and jostling them, 
and each with a weary, jaded, anxious look upon his 
face. As I gazed at this mighty torrent I was dis- 
mayed. I got as far as Trinity Churchyard, and then 
I put my valise upon the pavement, and leaning against 
the railing, watched the people as they passed me by. 
They came by hundreds, thousands, all with that eager, 
restless gait that I now know so well, all with the weary, 
anxious, care-worn expression I have mentioned, as if 
trying to reach some distant goal within a given time. 
They seemed to say to me, 'We would gladly stop if we 
could, and rest by the way ; but we must go on, on, and 
know no rest.' I asked myself, ' What chance have I 



5$ NEW YORK. 

here ? Can I keep up with this eager, restless throng, or 
will they pass me, and leave me behind ? ' Well," he 
added, with a smile, " I have managed to keep up with 
them, but I tell you it's a hard strain. We are all living 
too fast ; we are working too hard. Instead of taking 
a leisurely stroll to our business in the morning, we 
rush down town at a furious pace. We grind, grind at 
our treadmills all day, and grind too hard. We bolt 
our meals in a fourth of the time we should give to 
them ; we rush back home at night as furiously as we 
left it in the morning, and our evenings are spent in an 
effort to keep up the excitement of the day. We are 
living too fast, too hard. We break down long before 
we should. This haste, this furious pace at which we 
are going, at business, at pleasure, at everything, is the 
great curse of New York life." 

Now my friend's opinion is shared by hundreds, 
thousands of the most sensible men of the city, but 
they are powerless to save themselves from the curse 
they know to be upon them. Should they attempt to 
go more slowly, to live more reasonably, they would be 
left behind in the race for wealth ; they would fail in 
their hopes and plans. So they must join the crowd, 
and rush on and on, seeking the glittering prize of 
wealth and fame, well knowing all the time that, in all 
probability, when they have grasped it tired nature will 
give way and leave them incapable of enjoying it, if 
indeed they do not die before attaining their end. 

The common opinion that New York is the paradise 
of humbugs and tricksters is untrue. These people 
do abound here, beyond, a doubt ; but they are short- 
lived. They flourish to-day and are gone to-morrow. 



MERIT WINS IN NEW YORK. 59 

They take no root, and have no hold upon any genuine 
interest ; they attain no permanent success. It is only 
genuine merit that succeeds in the great city. Men are 
here subjected to a test that soon takes the conceit 
out of them. They are taken for just what they arc 
worth, and no more, and he must show himself a man 
indeed who would take his place among the princes of 
trade, or among the leaders of thought and opinion. 
He may bring with him from his distant home the 
brightest of reputations, but here he will have to begin 
at the very bottom of the ladder and mount upward 
again. It is slow work, so slow that it tries every 
quality of true manhood to its utmost. The daily life 
of the dwellers in the great city makes them keen, 
shrewd judges of human nature, and they are pro- 
ficients in the art of studying character. 

It is said that New York is the wickedest city in the 
country. It is the largest, and vice thrives in crowded 
communities. How great this wickedness is we may 
see in the subsequent portions of this work. Yet, if it 
is the wickedest city, it is also the best on the Conti- 
nent. If it contains thousands of the worst men and 
women in our land, it contains also thousands of the 
brightest and best of Christians. In point of morality, 
it will compare favorably with any city in the world. 
It is unhappily true that the devil's work is done here 
upon a large scale ; but so is the work of God, upon 
an even greater scale. If the city contains the gaudi- 
est, the most alluring, and the vilest haunts of sin, it 
also boasts the noblest and grandest institutions of 
religion, of charity, and virtue. Being the great centre 



60 NEW YORK. 

of wealth and culture, New York is also the centre of 
everything that is good and beautiful in life. 

In its charities, New York is, as in other respects, 
the leading city of the Continent. It maintains its own 
charitable and benevolent institutions with a liberality, 
and upon a scale of magnificence and comfort, 
unequaled in other parts of the country. It spends 
millions to relieve suffering and disease within its own 
limits, and at the same time lends an open ear and a ready 
hand to the cry of distress from other quarters. There 
is no portion of the globe to which the charity of New 
York does not extend ; and when it gives, it gives lib- 
erally. When the yellow fever laid its heavy hand 
upon the Southern States during the summer of 1878, 
it was to New York that the sufferers first turned for 
aid ; and the Metropolis responded nobly. In the 
course of a few months assistance in money and sup- 
plies was sent to the amount of several hundred thous- 
and dollars. During the recent war between Russia 
and Turkey, New York, with characteristic liberality, 
sent generous assistance to the sick and wounded of 
both armies. When Chicago was burned, the people 
of New York literally showered relief upon the afflicted 
citizens of the western Metropolis. It is enough for 
the o-reat city to hear the cry of distress, no matter 
from what quarter; its action is prompt and generous. 
The city authorities annually expend one million of 
dollars in public charities, while the various religious 
denominations and charitable associations expend annu- 
ally about five millions more. No record can be had 
of private charities — but they are large. This is the 
charity that begins at home. Of the aid sent to suffer- 




n— ^-^» •»jir-^-<i"*"''ip 
















P- ^31 




COSMOPOLITAN LIBERALITY. Gl 

ing persons and communities in other parts of the 
country no proper estimate can be made ; ' the sum is 
princely, and we may be sure is recorded above. 

I have spoken of the energy of the people in matters 
of business. They are in all respects the most enter- 
prising in the Union. While others are timid and 
hesitating, they are bold and self-reliant. They take 
risks in business from which others shrink, and carry 
their ventures forward with a resolution and vigor that 
cannot fail of success. It is this that has made the city 
the metropolis of America. Its people take a large, 
liberal view of matters. There is nothing narrow or 
provincial in their way of dealing with questions. 
They are cosmopolitan in all things. 

This liberality extends to matters of opinion. Men 
rarely trouble themselves to inquire into a neighbor's 
views of religion or politics, or to hold him to account 
for them. One may think as he pleases here, and so 
long as he observes the ordinary rules of decent living 
he will retain his place in society. Christian, Jew, 
Turk, Heathen, all mingle together in pleasant social 
intercourse, careless of each other's opinions, and 
taking each other for just what the individual man is 
worth. And so it is in politics. The most decided 
political antagonists may be in private life intimate 
friends. New York cares nothing for individual opin- 
ions. It welcomes every man, and uses him as best it 
can. 

Indeed, this indifference is carried to such an excess 
that men often live by each other, as next-door neigh- 
bors, for years, without interchanging salutations or 
holding any neighborly intercourse at all. It may be 



62 NEW YORK. 

said that this prevents gossip and adds to the pri- 
vacy of one's domestic affairs; but at the same time it 
breeds an amount of coldness between people and 
prevents the pleasantness of neighborly intercourse, 
which is not in all respects desirable. 

In mental culture the people of New York compare 
favorably with those of any American city. The con- 
ditions of success in the various pursuits of life require 
and develop the highest order of intelligence. Every 
faculty of the human being is sharpened in the struggle 
for mere existence. In addition to this, the surround- 
ings of the people contribute daily and almost imper- 
ceptibly to their culture. The magnificent streets, the 
imposing buildings, the rare and beautiful displays in 
the shops of the city, all go to cultivate the taste and 
impart knowledge to the people who behold them. 
The libraries are extensive and well patronized ; the 
theatrical displays and other amusements are upon the 
most elaborate and imposing scale ; and the schools 
and educational institutions are among the most excel- 
lent in the world. Those who have leisure for study, 
of course, have great advantages here, but the great 
mass of the people who have not leisure find means of 
improvement in the sights which greet them in their 
daily walks along the street. 

All sorts of people come to New York. You may 
watch the throng on a fair afternoon, in any of the 
principal streets of the city, and you will see pass before 
you representatives of every land and clime, of all pro- 
fessions, trades and callings. 

The great cost of living in New York makes it im- 
possible for the city to number a strong middle class 



LACK OF A MIDDLE CLASS. 63 

among Its people. The very rich can afford the ex- 
pense, since it brings them pleasures and compensations 
they can obtain nowhere else in America for their out- 
lay. The very poor and the laboring class huddle in 
the tenement houses, and put up with discomfort at a 
cost which would enable them to do far better in the 
other cities of the country. What a workingman pays 
for his two or three rooms in a New York tenement 
house would give him a separate house and a comfort- 
able home in almost any other American city. 

Persons of moderate means doing business in New 
York who desire the comforts of a home for their fami- 
lies are, as a rule, obliged to reside out of the city. 
They come into New York, in the morning, and leave 
it in the evening. It is a severe tax upon their strength, 
but it enables them to enjoy the business advantages 
of the metropolis, and at the same time to provide for 
their families homes of comfort and taste at a cost 
within their means, which they could not do as residents 
of the city. 

This leaves New York but a comparatively small 
representation of the class which is the mainstay of 
modern communities. The pauper population is large, 
the number of those who live by manual labor is larger, 
and against these are set the rich men of the city. The 
class which should be strongest, and which should 
stand as the harmonizers of the extremes we have 
mentioned, is conspicuous by its absence. 

Persons who do business in the city and reside in the 
suburbs are subjected to many inconveniences, especi- 
ally during the winter season. A heavy snow or a 
dangerous storm may keep them from their business 



64 NEW YORK. 

when their presence is imperatively demanded, or may 
prevent them from reaching home at night. 

As a place of residence, to those who have the money 
to justify it. New York is by far the most delightful 
home in the country. Its cosmopolitan and metropoli- 
tan character, its glorious climate, and its thousand and 
one attractions, added to the solid comfort one may en- 
joy here, make it the most attractive of our great cities. 
It possesses a peculiar charm, which all who have dwelt 
within its borders feel and own. As a rule, the people 
would rather be uncomfortable here than comfortable 
elsewhere. They leave it with regret, and return to it 
with delight whenever able to do so. 



CHANGES IN TOrULATION. 



65 



CHAPTER III. 



THE GROWTH OF NEW YORK. 



RAPID GROWTH OP NEW YORK DURING THE PAST THIRTY-FIVE YEARS — THE FLUSH TIMES AFTER 
THE WAR— EFFECTS OF THE PANIC OF 1873 — A MOMENTARY CHECK — RETURN OF PROS- 
PERITY — PROSPECTS FOR THE FUTURE — INCREASE IN BUILDING OPKRATIONS — HOW REAL 
ESTATE APPRECIATES IN VALUE — THE SECRET OP THE GREAT INCREASE OP WEALTH IN NEW 
YORK — FUTURE CENTRES OF POPULATION — WHAT NEW YORK WILL BE FIFTY YEARS HENCE — 
A GRAND DESTINY. 

We have already given the population of the me- 
tropolis according- to the last three censuses, but before 
passing on, it will be interesting to glance at the growth 
of the city for the last thirty-five years. The United 
States Census is taken every ten years, and shows a 
marked change in every decade; but the State Census, 
which is taken every five years, enables us to obtain 
a view of the movement of the city's population at 
shorter intervals. From it we learn that, notwith- 
standing the phenomenal growth of New York, there 
was a period, covering the duration of our civil war, 
when the metropolis, instead of increasing, actually de- 
clined in population. The returns since the year 1845, 
record the population as follows : 



In 1845, 
In 1850, 
In 1855, 
In i860, 
In 1865, 
In 1870, 
In 1875, 
In 1880, 



371.223 

515.547 
629,810 
813,669 
726,386 
942,292 
1,064,272 
1,209,561 



66 NEW YORK. 

The close of the civil war marked the opening of a 
new era of prosperity, which New York shared with 
the rest of the country. The panic of 1873 began an- 
other period of depression, which had its effect in 
keeping down the city's growth. The hard times 
drove numbers of laboring people and those in humble 
circumstances to the West and other portions of the 
country, to seek the rewards which the stagnation 
of business in the great commercial centre denied 
them. During the past two years the onward march 
of prosperity has been resumed, and the census of 
1880 shows a growth of 267,269 inhabitants over the 
population of 1870, and of 145,289 over that of 1875. 
It is confidently expected that the next five years will 
show a still greater improvement, and should the next 
decade be favorable to the general prosperity of the 
country, there can be little doubt that in 1890 New 
York will contain nearly, if not quite, two millions of 
inhabitants. With wise foresight, the city is preparing 
to accommodate this vast number of human beings 
which will soon crowd its limits. What changes will 
take place in the next ten years no one can with cer- 
tainty predict, but it is safe to assert that 1890 will see 
a city far more splendid, far more enterprising, and in 
every way more worthy of the proud title of " Me- 
tropolis," than that to which we now invite the reader's 
attention. 

Not long since, a gentleman who had carefully stud- 
ied the progress of New York, and who, as a statistician 
of great and acknowledged experience, is entitled to 
speak with authority, said : " Basing my calculations on 
tables corrected by external and internal influences 



CHANGES OF THE GROWTH OF THE CITY. 67 

which are clearly apparent to any one giving attention 
to the subject, I anticipate an increase in our population 
in New York, during the next five years, of fully three 
hundred and fifty thousand. First of all, the bad state of 
trade in Great Britain, and the wretched poverty cxistin<'- 
among the tillers of the soil, must greatly swell the tide 
of immigration. Moreover, we are of late getting a 
better class of immigrants. That is because skilled 
artisans, attracted by the glowing accounts of the bet- 
ter wages and more liberal treatment prevailing here, 
sent to them by fellow workmen who have already made 
their home in the United States, are now coming out 
here in force, and will emigrate in even larger numbers 
as the good news is disseminated among them. These 
men, unlike the unskilled laborers, who must needs 
travel on to less populated States, where alone their 
labor is in demand, will readily find a market for their 
skiHed labor in New York, and here, consequently, they 
will make their home. Rapid transit, too, now so fully 
developed, will not only keep the present population 
resident in their own city, but will, I think, draw thous- 
ands of men resident in Brooklyn, Jersey, Long Island 
and Connecticut towns and elsewhere, whose places of 
business are in New York, back within the city limits." 
The increase of the population necessarily brings an 
increase in the means of accommodating it, and of pro- 
viding for its various requirements. Consequently, 
New York is rapidly growing in the number of its 
business edifices, its dwellings, churches, theatres, and 
public buildings. In spite of the hard times and gene- 
ral depression which have marked the past ten years, 
building operations have been carried on upon a gigan- 



68 



NEW YORK. 



tic scale. According to the returns furnished by the 
city authorities, the number of buildings erected from 
1872 to 1879, was as follows: 



In 1872 
In 1S73 
In 1874 
In 1875 
In 1876 
In 1877 
In 1878 
In 1879 



1,728 
1,31 1 
1,388 
1,406 

1.379 
1432 
1,672 
2,065 



In all, a total of 12,381 buildings erected in eight 
years. 

"The first thing that strikes the eye on perusing these 
figures," says the gentleman we have quoted, "is the 
large increase in the number of buildings that went up 
in 1879, as com'pared with previous years, during which 
the increase of population and number of buildings 
erected were about proportionate. Hence the activity 
in building is clearly traceable to the general improve- 
ment of trade and freer circulation of money that has 
recently taken place." On this subject, the gentleman 
whose remarks are quoted above spoke as follows : — 
"The erection of buildings in New York during the past 
eio-ht years has been carried on upon an enormous 
scale. Mere figures give to the reader but a poor idea 
of the vast nature of these operations. From a careful 
calculation I have made, I find that were it possible to 
mass in one whole all the buildings erected in New 
York since 1872, they would cover an area equal in ex- 
tent to the ground lying between iioth and 140th 



INCREASE IN BUILDING OPERATIONS. 69 

Streets, from Fifth to Ninth avenue inckisive, and 
from 6oth street to i loth, between Eighth and Ninth 
avenues. It is, in short, perfectly safe to say that 
I i,ooo full lots have been built upon during- the period 
indicated — considering that the Seventh remment 
armory alone covers thirty-two lots, and many other 
enormous buildings have also gone up. This increase 
of building is, I think, likely to, go on indefinitely, and 
real estate, in sympathy, will, I believe, rise greatly in 
value. It may be advanced against the views I take 
upon this head that no matter how great an activity 
may prevail in building operations, there is so much 
vacant land on hand that real estate will not greatly 
advance in price. A very cogent argument in my favor 
will be found in a growing disposition on the part of 
large capitalists to buy up large pieces of land as an 
investment, after the manner adopted by Robert Len- 
nox, whose farm at the five-mile stone has proved such 
a veritable El Dorado to the two generations succeed- 
ing him. 

"The following extracts from the will of Robert Len- 
nox have, at this time, such a peculiar significance, in the 
face of the renewed demand for real estate for building 
operations, as to be worth reproducing. Section 9 of 
the will, bearing date of May 23d, 1829, June 23d, 1832, 
and October 4th, 1839, read as follows: — 

" ' I give, devise and bequeath to my son, my only son, 
James Lennox, my farm at the five-mile stone, purchased 
in part from the Corporation of the city of New York and 
containing about thirty acres, with all improvements, 
stock of horses, catde and farming utensils, for and during 
the term of his life, and after his death to his heirs forever. 



70 NEW YORK. 

My motive for so leaving- this property, is a firm per- 
suasion that it may, at no distant date, be the site of a 
village, and as it cost me much more than its present 
worth, from circumstances known to my family, I like 
to cherish the belief it may be realized to them. At all 
events, I want the experiment made, by keeping the 
property from being sold.' 

" Under the second date on the will — namely, June 
23d, 1832 — the foregoing bequest is thus modified: — 

" ' Whereas, in my said will I have left my farm, situ- 
ate in the Twelfth (formerly Ninth) ward of the city of 
New York, near the five-mile stone, to my son, James 
Lennox, for and during the term of his natural life, and 
after his death to his heirs, forever ; now I do hereby 
give and devise the said farm to my said son, James 
Lennox, and to his heirs, forever. At the same time, 
I wish him to understand that my opinion respecting 
the property is not changed, and though I withdraw 
all legal restrictions to his making sale of the whole or 
part of the same, yet I enforce on him my advice not to 
do so.' 

" A wise man in his generation was Robert Lennox. 
The farm at the five-mile stone originally cost the tes- 
tator somewhere in the neighborhood of ^40,000. 
Early in 1864, Mr. James Lennox, the fortunate legatee 
under the will quoted from, of the now historic farm, 
conveyed to his nephew, Robert Lennox Kennedy, 
the whole block between 7 2d and 73d streets, Madi- 
ison and Fifth avenues — a block 204 feet 4 inches 
in width on Fifth and Madison avenues and 420 feet 
in length on each street named. The consideration 
paid for this slice out of the golden farm was 



HISTORY OF THE LENNOX FARiM. 71 

^250,000. To Clarence S. Brown, on December nth, 
1866, Mr. Kennedy, for ^240,000, disposed of twenty 
lots on this block, comprising the whole front on 7 2d 
street, between Fifth and Madison avenues, and the 
plot 120 feet 2 inches by 100 feet, on the southwest 
corner of 73d street and Madison avenue. But four 
years had elapsed when Clarence Brown disposed of 
these identical lots to John Crosby Brown for ^430,000. 

" Not to enter into further detail," said the gentleman 
who had furnished these particulars, " I may first add, 
that in 1875 the farm at the five-mile stone was valued at 
^9,000,000, without a building upon it. To-day I judge 
that the lot on the corner of 72d street and Fifth avenue, 
27 feet by 100, Would fetch in the open market in the 
neighborhood of ^100,000, being* more than twice as 
much as the shrewd old Scotchman paid for the whole 
thirty acres. At the present time the whole estate is 
probably worth ^i 2,000,000. Many brokers have con- 
curred in the correctness of these views. Hall J. How 
said to me, only yesterday, 'Why, Amos Clark, of 
Boston, owns the lot on 7 2d street and Fifth avenue, 
and he would not sell it for ^100,000.' 

"The late John D. Phillips was hardly so wise as the 
owner of ' the farm at the five-mile stone.' On the 2d 
of June, 1 85 1, he purchased of Peter McLaughlin the 
lot on the southeast corner of 84th street and Fifth 
avenue for $540. Tempted by the rapid rise in the 
value of the property, Mr. Phillips sold this lot to 
Stephen Roberts on the i8th day of August, 1853, for 
$1900. On Thursday last this identical property was 
purchased by George Kemp for ^40,000. I wonder 
if it ever occurs to capitalists that, in the long run, more 



72 NEW YORK. 

money can be made out of things of substance than 
things of paper — certificates representing the Manhat- 
tan shares, for example ? If it does not, let them in- 
quire of those foolish Senators who rushed in where 
angels never tread — to wit, the Board of Brokers. In 
real estate operations, loaded dice cannot well be em- 
ployed, and midnight decrees doubling its value are 
thinofs unheard of; and it mio-ht be well for our million- 
aires to remember that the Legislature, lorced on by 
public sentiment, manifests a disposition to lessen the 
burdens that have hitherto fallen upon real estate, by 
forcing the corporations to bear their fair share of the 
expense of government. I would observe, en passant, 
that the corporations of Pennsylvania pay almost the 
whole amount of the State taxes. Says the Attorney- 
General of that State: 'The greater portion of the 
revenues of Pennsylvania are derived from the taxes 
levied on corporations.' 

" All my observations lead me to the conclusion that 
building operations will be carried on still more exten- 
sively during the next few years. 

" I am strongly impressed with the belief that the 
west side of the city will be the locality wherein the 
greatest activity- in building will manifest itself. The 
fashionable locality bounded by 6oth and 90th streets, 
and Madison and Fourth and Fifth avenues, is now 
pretty well built up, and within a couple of years 
or so will, I imagine, be completely covered. Again, 
the recent enormous rise in prices of lots in the fash- 
ionable eastern districts will cause builders to at 
least ponder over Horace Greeley's advice as to 
going West. That portion of the cit>' will, I think, 



THE FUTURE OF THE WEST SIDE. 73 

prove the home of the well-to-do class of the fu- 
ture. I understand that the series of large buildinf^s 
recently erected by Mr. Edward Clark, of sewino- 
machine fame, on the north side of 73d street, be- 
tween Ninth and Tenth avenues, are already all rented 
on good terms. Mr. Clark is a large owner of lots in 
this particular locality. These and other projected 
and already begun building operations on the west 
side will encourage other extensive property holders 
and capitalists to invest largely in similar enterprises. 
The natural advantages of the western side, comprisino- 
the peerless riverside drive, with its panoramic views of 
the Hudson, the Palisades, Jersey, and its glimpses of 
the sea, and its health-giving breezes from the moun- 
tains, the Boulevards, Manhattan Square and the Morn- 
ingside Park, combine to render this western portion 
of our city a highly desirable place of residence. By 
reason of bill No. 206, that has recendy passed the 
Senate, Morningside Park — hitherto a park only on 
paper — will speedily be transformed into ' a thing of 
beauty and a joy forever.' It is to be at once graded, 
and the approaches appropriately arranged; and better 
sdll, the bill provides that 5150.000 shall at once be 
spent by the Department in its cultivation and adorn- 
ment. By the ist of May, too, the squatters — whose 
rudely constructed huts in various stages of dilapida- 
tion and decay are at present notable disfigurements of 
the district — will disappear, as the property owners have 
recently combined with the view of effecting this desir- 
able reformation. The superior equipments, too, of the 
western elevated road, the better class of passengers 
using the cars, and the convenient situation and frequent 



74 NEW YORK. 

recurrence of the stations, are all important factors in 
enhancing the growing popularity of the western dis- 
trict as a residential suburb. 

" Riding over the western elevated road, as the eye 
rests upon the little groups of houses and cottages, 
clinging, tendril-like, around the stations of the elevated 
road, anywhere above, say, 125th street, one is forcibly 
reminded of the words of Victor Hugo. Writing of the 
populating effects of railroads on the suburbs of Paris, 
in 'Les Miserables,' he says: 'Whenever a station is 
built on the skirts of a city, it is the death of a 
suburb and the birth of a town.' Those who had 
the courage to invest their money in real estate in 
the worst of time (about eighteen months ago), have 
been enabled in many instances to dispose of their 
purchases at prices almost approaching, and in some 
instances actually exceeding, the prices prevailing in 
1872-73, and have reason to exclaim with Mac- 
beth : — 

« " • Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward 

To where they were before.' " 

About a year ago, the New York Herald, in a care- 
fully-prepared paper, thus predicted the future of New 
York :— 

" The growth and development of this city are with- 
out a parallel and without a precedent. Its future has 
been often prophesied, but not always understood. 
When we undertake to trace the causes that have led 
to its commercial supreniacy, and those that are now 
operating to increase its prosperity, we are met by 
singular and fortuitous circumstances, which it was im- 
possible to foresee, and not easy to comprehend. One 



THE CITY IN OLDEN TIME. 75 

thing is, however, certain, that the anticipations of the 
most sanguine have always been more than realized, 
while the prognostications of the doubtful have only 
been remembered for their fallacy. 

" The progressive growth of the city has been often 
capricious, so far as locality is concerned, but the im- 
portant factor of topography has always asserted itself, 
in spite of all efforts to ignore it in the interests of in- 
dividual projects. Going back to the early settlement 
and Dutch supremacy, we find both commerce and 
social life progressing along the east side of the city, 
on the line of what is now Pearl street, where the 
Dutch burgher sat on his ' stoop,' with his long pipe, 
and held social commune with his neighbor over the 
way. The early occupation of that section was due to 
the fact that from the east side of the city, on account 
of the prevailing winds, sailing vessels may always be 
got under way more readily than from the west side, 
where it is often impossible for a vessel to leave her 
berth without the aid of a tugf. When the Enorlish oc- 
cupation took place, the Dutch had already monopo- 
lized the east side of the city, as far up as the * Bouw- 
erie,' or Bowery, including the Stuyvesant meadows — 
Peter Stuyvesant himself owning a large tract, where 
is now the Stuyvesant Park. The natural social and 
business antagonism between the Dutch and English 
necessitated the selection of a new locality on the part 
of the latter, and Broadway became the choice, where 
were erected the English churches — Trinity and St. 
Paul — and here the Eng-lish merchants built their resi- 
dences and their stores. The Dutch churches were in 
Fulton and Nassau streets, and as the religious ele- 



76 NEW YORK. 

ment, especially in small communities, is always an 
important factor in social life, we find two distinct cen- 
tres of civic progress developing themselves, and main- 
tained with great energy and determination for many 
years. The topographical advantages were, however, 
in favor of the English, and the building up of New 
York along the line of Broadway, the 'backbone' of 
the island, was the result. But time and prosperity 
causing a rapid increase of population, the city as- 
sumed a cosmopolitan character, local religious or 
social influences ceased to have the same force that 
they formerly exerted, and new influences arose to de- 
termine the direction and character of the city's growth. 
Yet no one anticipated then, or for years afterward, 
what the city might become. There are many persons 
still living who can remember Canal street as out of 
town, where they went for a day's shooting in its 
swampy surroundings, or to fish from the bridge that 
spanned the sluggish stream on Broadway; and there 
are at present residents of Fourteenth street who were 
once regarded with amazement by their friends, for es- 
tablishing their homes in such a remote locality. Yet 
the city has continued to grow, the centre of active 
trade shifting from place to place as the city extended 
itself This has been especially the case with the dry- 
goods trade, which at one time centred itself in Pearl 
street, in the old homes of the Dutch, shifdng thence 
to lower Broadway, afterward occupying the streets 
runnine from that thoroug-hfare on the west side, most 
of which were widened from forty to sixty feet to make 
accommodations for this rapidly-increasing trade, and 
were lined with fine marble buildings, soon, however, 



CHANGES IN THE CITY. 77 

to be abandoned for Church street, middle Broadway, 
and the streets connecting- them, where it now^ rests for 
a season. Other hnes of trade have apparendy fol- 
lowed in the wake, and occupied the localities deserted 
by the jobbing- trade, leaving no vacancies, but filling 
up, as it were, the interstices as fast as they were 
made ; but from the very force of numbers and the 
great bulk of this business, the dry-goods traders have 
always led the way. On the other hand, in the devel- 
opment of the area appropriated for the purposes of 
residences, the governing elements have been of an en- 
tirely different character. Any one who will take the 
pains to examine, from one decade to another, the pro- 
t^ressive northward extension of the buildinp: limits, 
will observe a remarkable fluctuation, similar to the 
irregular and spasmodic lines that indicate on a dia- 
gram the rise and fall of Qrold durino- the inflation 
period At one time, this line runs forward along the 
course of Second avenue, leaving all others behind. 
Again, the extension is transferred to Seventh avenue, 
which in 1844 was far ahead of all others. At another 
period it advanced with great rapidity on the line of 
Third avenue, which has distanced all competitors and 
prolonged itself to Harlem. With the better class of 
residences, Fifth avenue rushed onward, leaving Madi- 
son avenue behind, in quite an insignificant posiuon; 
but again Madison avenue takes up the race, and has 
now outstripped Fifth avenue. 

" These apparently capricious fluctuations arc due to 
such obvious causes that, instead of being singular, they 
are directly the reverse, since, with the circumstances 
that brought about these results, it would have been re- 



78 NEW YORK. 

markable had they been otherwise. Take, for instance, 
Second avenue. An extensive tract in this locahty be- 
longed to the heirs of the Stuyvesant estate, many of 
whom had sufficient means to erect expensive struc- 
tures for their own residences, and encouraged others 
to do the same in their vicinity. The consequence was, 
that for a time many first-class improvements were 
made in the neighborhood of Stuyvesant Square, and 
along that region of the avenue alluded to. But the 
disposition to erect fine buildings in that section soon 
passed away, and it has never gone beyond an oasis of 
respectability in a desert of mediocrity. Again, St. 
Mark's place was selected by an enterprising citizen as 
an exclusive faubourg, but it proved a mere halting 
place of fashion. Bond street was another effort, where 
enough gentlemen of taste and means established them- 
selves to render the entire street an exclusive precinct 
for a decade or more, but its glory has long since faded. 
"Some thirty years ago the movement in Fifth avenue 
was initiated, and it has held its own, with a growth 
above and decay below, from that time to the present 
day. This fine avenue has now become thoroughly 
invaded, from Washington square almost to the Central 
Park, with fancy shops, jewelers, hotels and boarding 
houses, and its exclusiveness has vanished forever. 
' Murray Hill,' the line of which it crosses, was for a 
considerable time regarded as the synonym of fash- 
ion, but in time it will be more strictly synonymous 
with shabby gentility. Fifth avenue northward is 
limited to the east side of the Park, and has a 'jump- 
ing off' place at I02d street, into the Harlem flats, 
which checks its career of availability. Madison avenue 



THE MOVEMENTS OF FASHION, 79 

has to some extent usurped the place of Fifth avenue, 
due in a large measure to the convenience afforded 
originally by the extension of the Fourth avenue surface 
road into that avenue. The Third avenue road, which 
in its incipient stages had been a losing concern (the 
stock of which at one time sold for three cents on the 
dollar), began at last, through the mere element of 
convenience, to cause the building up of the desert of 
vacant lots through which it was originally projected, 
and at the time of the construction of the elevated 
line along its route, was paying Its stockholders every 
year a hundred cents on the dollar of Its original cost, 
and twenty cents per annum on its enormously watered 
capital. Of course this Involved the transportation of 
very great masses of people, amounting to many mil- 
lions annually, accompanied by much crowding and 
discomfort. This immense volume of travel Is now be- 
ing absorbed by the East Side Elevated Railroad. 

" Lennox Hill, on the line of Fifth and Madison ave- 
nues, from the very nature of its elevated position, 
affords very attractive building sites, which the large 
and opulent class of our Hebrew fellow citizens have 
not been slow to appreciate. In this vicinity they have, 
with a generous and noble liberality, erected the superb 
Mount Sinai Hospital, for the care and comfort of the 
sick of their own people, and many of the handsomest 
private residences in this fine locality have been erected 
by them. 

" In fact, as this favored territory Is really limited by 
the sudden descent into Harlem Flats at looth street, 
it is very doubtful whether it will be sufficient even to 
accommodate all of that faith who are likely to erect 



80 NEW YORK. 

here their ' lares and penates.' The inquiry naturally 
presents itself, where, then, shall the growth of the city 
thus limited and circumscribed in the channels it has 
pursued for three decades, be now directed ? 

" The answer to this question is to be found in the 
irresistible logic of facts that we propose now to pre- 
sent. In the glance we have taken at the great capitals 
of Europe, over some of which not only centuries, but 
tens of centuries have rolled since their foundation, and 
on which successive monarchs have sought, in la.vish 
expenditure, to stamp the glory of their brief reigns, by 
splendid architectural adornments, by parks and prom- 
enades, avenues and squares, by grand monuments of 
brass and marble, triumphal arches and gorgeous pa- 
laces — unlike what the New World has yet dreamed 
of and may never possess — in this glance we see what 
an important element the broad shaded avenues and 
fine parks have been in their development. We have 
recognized that, regardless of all other considerations, 
these avenues and drives have been the fixed centres 
of attraction, the final resting place of fashion and ele- 
gance, along which and around which cluster the homes 
of the aesthetic and the opulent, where the citizen who 
entertains a just civic pride has sought to embellish 
with his own wealth and taste the choice spots where 
natural topography, aided by well-ordered public im- 
provements, invite him to a salubrious and permanent 
home. 

," The conclusion is inevitable, therefore, that the sec- 
tion of the city that has been held in reserve until the 
time when the progress of wealth and refinement shall 
have attained that period of its development when our 



THE WEST END. 81 

citizens can appreciate and are ready to take advantage 
of the situation, is the section that is to be the most 
favored and the most sought after. At an expense 
unparalleled except in the lavish periods of imperial 
opulence, the great West End plateau, extending from 
the Central Park to the North River has been laid out 
and ornamented with a series of maenificent avenues 
not excelled by any other city in the world. Moreover, 
this entire region combines in its general aspect all that 
is magnificent in the leading capitals of Europe. In 
our Central Park we have the fine Prater of Vienna ; 
in our grand boulevard the rival of the finest avenues 
of the gay capital of France; in our Riverside avenue 
the equivalent of the Chiaja of Naples and the Corso 
of Rome; while the beautiful " Unter den Linden" of 
Berlin, and the finest portions of the West End of 
London, are reproduced again and again. Let us look 
more closely at the topography of this section, and see 
whether it will bear out the impressions that are given 
in regard to it, by a study of its plan. 

"Originally, the highest portions of the 'backbone' 
of the island were rough and unsightly, rocky emi- 
nences alternated with intervening valleys. By a pro- 
cess of uniform grading these have been transformed 
into a generally level plateau, from seventy-five to a 
hundred feet above the river. On the east, the Central 
Park, with all its luxuriant beauty, stretches out its long 
line of trees and shrubs. On the west, the stately 
Hudson bathes the foot of the green slope in which it 
terminates, while from the splendid avenue on the crest 
above, this beautiful sheet of water, with its teeming 
life of sail and steamer, is viewed for more than three 



82 NEW YORK. 

miles of drive and promenade. On the south the busy 
city stretches out from below the Park, and on the 
north the Boulevard extends its length away into the 
picturesque and inviting region of Fort Washington, 
with the Mornlngside Park on the east to break the 
view of Harlem Plains, while Long Island Sound and 
its beautiful islands are seen in the distance. 

" In the details of draining, sewering and water sup- 
ply, the highest skill of the city engineers has been 
here employed, and these important public necessities 
have been provided in anticipation, with scrupulous 
regard to thoroughly studied general plans. The igno- 
rance and carelessness of the past have been replaced 
by intelligence and conscientious work, and the errors 
elsewhere committed have here been avoided, these 
errors furnishing both a lesson and a guide to perfection. 
The drainage of this region flows principally towards the 
west side, in some portions of which there has accumu- 
lated a great deal of contaminated soil, which may 
never be purified. The underground drains in that 
region, which were constructed at a late day, to remove 
the water from the soil, after much of the frradinsf had 
been done, arc found, in some instances, to run sewage 
matter of the most offensive description. Whether this 
escapes from imperfect sewers, or from the polluted 
condition of the soil, cannot readily be ascertained ; but 
such is the case. That side must necessarily partake 
of the disadvantages arising from the great pressure 
of travel incident to the crowded population that 
already monopolizes the larger portion of the territory, 
to be increased in the near future by all that Is to ac- 
cumulate on Harlem Plains. It is believed that the 



HARLEM RIVER. 83 

density of the future population of the east side will 
exceed anything now conceived of. With the improve- 
ment of the Harlem River, soon to be accomplished, a 
cordon of business and second-class dwellings will be 
drawn closely around that side, w^hich can by no possi- 
bility invade the West End plateau. The business capa- 
city' of the Harlem River is yet to be developed. More 
of a river than the Thames at London; twice as much as 
the Seine at Paris, and compared with which the Spree, 
which runs through Berlin, is a mere open sewer, it has 
yet been almost ignored in discussing the immediate 
future of New York. We are soon to realize the fact 
that this fine river is the proper terminus of the Erie 
Canal. When the contemplated improvements of this 
river are completed, a commercial channel will be 
opened that will render unnecessary the transportation 
of the canal freight the entire length of the island and 
around the Batter)^ to interfere with the shipping and 
the ferries. It will, instead of making this long detour, 
be discharged into warehouses and elevators on the 
Harlem River and at Port Morris, whence the foreign 
shipping can receive it. The grain and lumber trade 
of the city will centre here, and a large amount of busi- 
ness now crowded into the lower end of the island 
will be transacted at this point. The facilities offered 
by the rapid transit railways have made all this not 
only possible, but certain. 

" Overlooking the whole of this vast and accumu- 
lating traffic and commerce, but separated from it for- 
ever by topographical lines as clearly defined and 
obstructive as the bastions that surround the fashion- 
able residences of the Viennese," the West End plateau 



84 NEW YORK. 

will undoubtedly always be held intact for the develop- 
ment of a higher order of domestic architecture than it 
has been the good fortune of New York heretofore to 
possess. We have become so accustomed to being 
victimized and led by speculative builders, that the 
average citizen has come to believe that any attempt 
of his own to form a conception of the house that he 
would desire to live in, or any expectation of finding- 
such a house if he indulcred himself in such ideas, 
would be perfectly absurd. It is time for us to ask 
ourselves if such a state of things is absolutely neces- 
sary, if we are to go on and be shelved away in a 
continuous and interminable series of brown-stone 
boxes, the dimensions of which are growing less year 
by year, until they may finally become but little larger 
than the vaults into which our mortal remains are to 
be thrust away out of sight forever. A stroll into the 
upper sections of the east side, where house manufac- 
turing Is going on by the mile, is enough to alarm a 
thoughtful person as to the possible future of New 
York in this respect. The sanitary feature of diis con- 
dition of things is a most serious one, as it is almost 
impossible to secure in such constructions those appli- 
ances for ventilation and house drainage that are ab- 
solutely necessary to health. The curse of the tene- 
ment-house has been almost irrevocably stamped upon 
the poorer class, and the curse of the speculative 
builder is rapidly stamping itself upon the more pros- 
perous. The truth is that, as a people, we have almost 
lost the idea of what a real house is. The few at- 
tempts at architectural display have been principally 
made on ' corner lots.' This unfortunate fancy for 



ERRORS IN ARCIIITFXTURE. 85 

corners beran with the extension of biiildine on the 
Fifth avenue. We say unfortunate, because out of it 
has come that style of corner-lot architecture that has 
dominated for so many years, at the expense of sym- 
metry and completeness, and has almost given a per- 
manent stamp to domestic architecture in the city. 
These corner lots have been eagerly sought after by 
those who could afford to buy them, and few persons, 
no matter what their wealth or aesthetic culture, have 
thought of constructing anything more than what ap- 
pears to be three-quarters of a house. With marked 
exceptions, no one has seemed to. consider it worth 
while to erect a really complete house, although pos- 
sessed of ample land for the purpose. The otherwise 
tasteful residence of Mr. R. L. Stewart, at the corner 
of 20th street and Fifth avenue, is an example of this 
defect to a marked deoree. So also are the handsome 
mansions of the Astors, at 33d and 34th streets, on the 
same avenue, where the connectinof fence between the 
houses on each corner seems labeled, 'This space to 
be filled in solid.' This jug-handle style of architec- 
ture has become so universal that we have grown 
accustomed to it, and the inconorruitv does not strike 
us as it does all intelligent visitors from other cities. 

" The plans of improvement at the West End that 
have now been completed afford the opportunity for 
that change in style of house construction that has so 
longr been a desideratum with us. There are a number 
of cities in the United States that are far in advance 
of New York in this respect, where the residences of 
the leading citizens are marked by aesthetic surround- 
ings, and an individuality that are not seen here. The 



I 



86 NEW YORK. 

territory at the West End is so admirably divided up by 
the broad boulevard through the centre, the open space 
of Central Park on the east and the Riverside Park on 
the west — that the interminable vistas of brown stone 
that characterize the rest of the city are impossible, 
while unexampled facilities are supplied for the erection 
of elesjant homes that will do credit to their owners 
and will be ornaments to the city. Instead of expend- 
ing from ^30,000 to ^50,000 for a corner lot on Fifth 
avenue, from four to six lots can here be now purchased 
for that sum, and the indications are that men of fore- 
sight and good judgment are availing themselves of the 
chances that are thus offered. Steam transit has ac- 
complished in a year what a decade would have failed 
to do without it. The admirable service on the elevated 
roads has shown with what comfort and facilit)' a home 
in this vicinity can be reached, and as these roads will 
be running through the West End this spring, a decided 
movement has already begun, and building opera- 
tions on an extensive scale have been commenced, 
the most marked of which is that at 7 2d street and 
Eighth avenue, where there is to be erected an edifice 
that will be equal to anything of the kind in this or any 
other city. Some fine private residences will also be 
erected this spring on the unrivaled Riverside avenue. 
This splendid avenue is to be fully completed and 
opened during the coming season. Visitors to the 
City and the Central Park, in 1 890, will probably find 
the entire region westward to the river built up in 
a manner consistent with the surrounding public im- 
provements. 

" If there appears to be the least exaggeration in this 



FUTURE FASHIONABLE CENTRE. 87 

Statement let us reflect for a moment on the strikin^'- 
fact that, with the exceptions of the immediate vicinity 
of the General Post Office and that of Madison 
Square, 23d street, there is no spot in the city where 
a larger number of people can be concentrated, in the 
shortest space of time, with the readiest means of loco- 
motion, than ' The Circle ' at the Eighth avenue and 
59th street entrance of the Central Park; and yet, in 
ignorance of this fact, this point is probably regarded 
by nine-tenths of our citizens as comparatively isolated. 
The elevated railways, which in this immediate vicinity 
come together, and meet eight lines of surface railways, 
have accomplished this result. While the triangle be- 
tween St. Paul's and the Post Office will be for many 
years to come what it now is, the most active focus of 
the business portion of the city. ' The Circle ' has been 
made, by the facilities for locomotion afforded at that 
point, the chief centre of social life. Here v/ill be 
erected in a shorter period of time than most people 
imagine the great Palace Hotel, combining the elegance 
of the Windsor with the comfort of the Fifth Avenue 
and the convenience of the Astor. In close proximity 
will be the Conservator)' of Music, which will be the 
permanent home of both English and Italian opera, with 
adjoining accommodations that can afford ample space 
for social entertainments, both in winter and summer, 
on a scale that the increasing size of the city demands. 
The other leading places of amusement will also con- 
gregate in the vicinity, on account of the facility with 
which they can be reached from all other parts of the 
city." 



88 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE HARBOR OF NEW YORK. 

NATURAL ADVANTAGES OF THE HARBOR — THE OUTER AND INNER BAYS — EXCURSIONS — A TRIf 
DOWN THE HARBOR — SCENES ALONG THE ROUTE — THE SHIPPING — THROUGH THE INNER BAY 
— governor's island — BEDLOe's AND ELLIS' ISLANDS — BARTHOLDl'S STATUE — LIBERTY 
ENLIGHTENING THE WORLD— THE KILL VAN KULL — STATEN ISLAND — THE NARROWS — THE 
FORTIFICATIONS — THE OUTER BAY — QUARANTINE — CONEY ISLAND— SCENES IN THE LOWER 
BAY — SANDY HOOK — OUT TO SEA — BACK TO NEW YORK. 

The Harbor of New York is one of the most beauti- 
ful sheets of water in the world. It consists of an In- 
ner and an Outer Bay, connected by the strait known 
as " The Narrows." Between them lie Staten and 
Long Islands, two natural barriers which render the 
Inner Bay one of the safest of snug harbors. The 
Outer Bay, though less sheltered than the Inner, affords 
safe and commodious anchorage for the fleets of the 
world. 

In the summer and early fall steamers make daily 
trips from the city to the ocean and back, and carry 
thousands of passengers bent on enjoying the sea breeze 
and the glorious scenery of the harbor. We invite the 
reader to take passage with us on one of these. 

We start from one of the up-town piers on the North 
River side, and make several landings between our 
point of departure and the Battery, at each of which 
we add largely to our cargo of human freight. The 
steamer glides swiftly along the city front, by the 
hundreds of vessels lying at the piers and anchored in 
the stream. Here, moored to their piers, each of which 
is covered by an enormous wooden shed, are the great 
European steamships. You may tell them by the color 



HARBOR SCENES. 89 

of and the marks upon their smoke stacks. Two or 
three are anchored in the river, havingr just come in 
from the ocean voyage, and are still dingy and dirty 
with the smoke and grime of travel. Further down 
are the steamers plying between New York and Ameri- 
can ports, the floating palaces of the Hudson and Long 
Island Sound, and numbers of river craft. The huge 
ferry boats, black with passengers, cross and recross 
our track, and it requires not a litde skill on the part 
of our steersman to keep safely out of their way. Tugs 
are puffing by us with heavily laden vessels, or vessels 
in ballast, guiding them skillfully along their course. 
The flags of all the countries of the world are floating 
out from ship and shore, and the river presents a gay 
and animated scene. On the opposite side is Jersey 
City, the most conspicuous objects of the shore line 
being the great ferry houses which mark the depots of 
the various railway lines leading south and west from 
New York. In the not distant future the tunnel now 
in construction under the Hudson will connect New 
Jersey with New York, and the railways will enter the 
city by means of it. 

The last landing has been made, and our steamer 
now turns her head toward the Inner Bay. Just off" the 
Battery we pass a fine frigate and a monitor, fly- 
insf the national flag-, and near them notice several 
foreign men of war riding at their anchors. From the 
steamer's deck the lower end of the city and the spires 
and towers that rise from it make a pleasing picture, 
while across the East River is Brooklyn, its heights 
crowned with stately mansions, and between the two 
cities swings the great bridge that is to connect them. 




LP' 11 I 



FORTIFICATIONS OF THE HARBOR. 91 

On our left is Governor's Island, with the half round 
fort of Castle William, and the more formidable works 
of Fort Columbus beyond it. The American flao- is 
flying from a tall staff about the centre of the island, 
and the troops of the garrison can be seen engaged 
at their manoeuvres on the parade ground. Across the 
harbor, near the Jersey shore, is Ellis's Island, on which 
is situated Fort Gibson, armed with twenty heavy guns. 
To the south of it is a larger island, known as Bedloe's, 
on which stands Fort Wood, which mounts eighty guns. 
This island is well out in the bay, and commands an 
unobstructed view through the Narrows, out to sea. 
Upon this island is to stand Bartholdi's great statue of 
"Liberty Enlightening the World." This remarkable 
work is the gift of numbers of French citizens, to New 
York, and is o-icrantic in size, beinir intended as a lio^ht- 
house as well as an ornament to the harbor. A writer in 
Scribiter s Magazine for June, 1877, thus describes the 
statue and the site chosen for it : " One can see that 
Bedloe's Island is a very central point in the complex 
of rivers and islands forming what is really the city of 
New York — Manhattan Island is only one and the 
chief portion of our city. Hoboken. Jersey City, Staten 
Island, Bay Ridge, and Brooklyn are already parts of 
it ; in the future they will always tend to be bound 
more closely around New York proper. Bedloe's 
Island is therefore a nearly central point in the Upper 
Bay, about which lie those detached portions of the 
future, if not of the present city, and its small size will 
only add to the effect of any gigantic statue erected on 
it. The fort will be an advanced part or terrace to the 



92 NEW YORK. 

pedestal of the figure, which will rise high above any 
other object in the immediate neighborhood. 

" Allowing twenty feet for the height of the island 
above the water, the pedestal is to be one hundred and 
ten feet high, and the statue, to the flame of the torch, 
one hundred and forty-five. This makes the torch at 
least two hundred and seventy-five feet above the level 
of the Bay. It will equal in height the column of the 
Place Vendome, at Paris, and will be larger than the 
Collossus at Rhodes, so much celebrated by antiquity. 
Like that statue, it will have to be cast in pieces of man- 
ageable size, and built up, much after the manner of an 
armored frigate. The construction will be a curious 
piece of engineering skill. At night it is proposed that 
a halo of jets of light shall radiate from the temples of 
the enormous goddess, and perhaps the flame of the 
torch may be fashioned in crystal, in order that it may 
catch the light of the sun by day, and at night form a 
glowing object illuminated by electricity. 

" In respect to the pose of the statue, that has been 
calculated with care. A Liberty would have to be 
draped, even if a draped statue were not advisable, in 
a climate as cold as ours, where nude fig^ures suesfest 
extreme discomfort. But M. Bartholdi has also used 
his drapery to give a tower-like and therefore solid 
look to the lofty woman, without forgetting the neces- 
sity for variety in the upward lines. * * ^: -•:•= 

" She will stand so as to suggest that the strongest 
hurricane could never budge her from the pedestal 
she has chosen. Her gesture is meant to call the 
attention of the most distant person, and, moreover, 
to let him know unmistakably what the figure 




''iiSii 



94 NEW YORK. 

means. For in this statue M. Bartholdi has applied 
his science to fine effect in getting the figure outUned 
against the sky, while the energetic attitude has not 
interfered with a certain dignified repose which inheres 
in the resting position, and which may be owing to the 
weight of the body being thrown on the left leg, as 
well as to the grave folds of ample drapery. Even if 
a stranger approaching from the Narrows should not 
know at once what she is holding up for him to see, the 
energy of her action will awaken his curiosity, and the 
dignity of it will make him await a nearer approach 
with confidence. When he can make out the tablets of 
the law which jut out from her left side as they rest on 
her bent arm, and the flaming torch which she holds 
high up above her head, while her eyes are fixed on the 
horizon, he will be dull indeed if he does not under- 
stand what she wishes to tell." 

This grand statue will be the most notable ornament 
of the harbor, and one of the most prominent attrac- 
tions of the city. A model of the arm with the up- 
lifted torch is now standing in Madison Square, where 
it has been much admired. It was originally exhibited 
at the Centennial Exhibition at Philadelphia, and was 
removed to New York after the close of the World's 
F"air. The statue will be of bronze, and, it is hoped, 
will be completed and erected within a year or two. 

Looking back up the harbor, we see the broad Hud- 
son stretching away to the northward, with the high 
bluffs of New Jersey on the west, and the stately spires 
of New York on the east. Between Governor's Island 
and the city, the East River, crowded with shipping, 
and full of moving steamers, stretches away until its 



THE NARROWS. 95 

shores seem to meet. Brooklyn unrolls itself like a 
vast panorama as our steamer speeds by it, and the 
shores of Long Island spread away beyond it. On our 
right is now a little white lighthouse, situated on a 
shoal, marking the entrance to the Kill Van Kull, or 
Staten Island Sound, a placid sheet of water separating 
Staten Island from the Jersey shore. It is full of small 
craft, and looks very inviting as we sail by it. The 
bold heights of Staten Island rise up on our right, lined 
from shore to summit with picturesque villages and 
villas, all embowered in bright green foliage. Pretty 
villas are also seen on the distant shores of Lone 
Island, and we can see the steamers darting swiftly 
towards the landing at Bay Ridge, where the passengers 
will take the cars for Coney Island. 

The shores of Staten and Lone Island now draw 
nearer together, the former rising to a bold headland, 
the summit of which is over one hundred feet from the 
water. The strip of water between the islands is 
about a mile in width, and is known as the Narrows. It 
connects the Outer and Inner Bays, and is strongly 
fortified. The principal defences of the city are at this 
point, and the shores on either hand bristle with guns. 
On the Long Island shore is Fort Hamilton, a large 
casemated work, built in the old-fashioned style. It 
was begun in 1824, and was finished in 1832. It cost 
$550,000, and mounts eighty heavy guns. Since the 
Civil War, extensive additions have been made to it in 
the shape of outer batteries, mortar batteries, etc. 
The fort is a pretty place, and is visited by thousands 
every year from New York and Brooklyn. It is one 
of the principal military stations on the Atlantic coast, 



96 NEW YORK. 

and its officers are noted for their hospitality. It looks 
very peaceful as it lies back amid its grass-covered 
parapets, and the rows of guns which project from it 
seem innocent enough in this soft summer light. 

At the very entrance to the Narrows, and on a shoal 
a few hundred yards distant from Fort Hamilton, stands 
Fort Lafayette. It was begun in 1812, and occupies 
the best of all positions for the defence of New York 
Harbor, During the Civil War it was used as a prison 
for political offenders. In December, 1 868, it was injured 
by fire to such an extent as to make it practically 
worthless, unless repaired at a very considerable 
outlay ; and as it was adapted to guns of small calibre 
only, it was not thought worth while to restore it, but 
to replace it by a construction which should meet the 
demands of modern armaments. The defence of New 
York Harbor requires a new work on this shoal which 
will admit of the mounting of eighty one-hundred- ton 
guns. It will require several years to construct such a 
work as is needed, and it is expected that it will be 
begun without delay. The old fort cost ^350,000, and 
was armed with seventy-three guns. 

The Staten Island shore bristles with guns, from the 
water line to the summit of the bluff These works 
are eight in number, and are admirably constructed 
and strongly armed. They are known as Forts Wads- 
worth and Tompkins (the latter of which will probably 
be called Fort Richmond), the Glacis Gun Battery, 
north of Fort Tompkins, the Glacis Mortar Battery, 
south of Fort Tompkins, Battery Hudson, South Mor- 
tar Battery, North Cliff Battery, and South Cliff Bat- 
tery. 



THE STATEN ISLAND FORTS. 97 

Fort Wadsworth was commenced in 1847, ^^^ con- 
stitutes a part of the second line of defence of the 
southern water approach to New York. It is an 
enclosed work, built of granite, containing- three tiers 
of g-uns in casemates and one en barbette, the lower tier 
being only a few feet above the water level. The 
work, in connection with those adjacent to it on either 
side of Fort Tompkins and the two adjacent glacis bat- 
teries on the hill in rear, is designed to throw a heavy 
concentrated fire on vessels approaching or attempting 
to pass through the Narrows, crossing its fire with that 
of Fort Hamilton and batteries on the opposite side 
of the channel. 

Fort Tompkins occupies the site of an old work, and 
was commenced in 1858. The main work, with the glacis 
gun battery on its left and the glacis mortar battery on 
its right, crowns the hill in rear of Fort Wadsworth 
and the earthen batteries known as North Cliff Bat- 
tery, South Cliff Battery, Battery Hudson, and the 
South Mortar Battery. It is an inclosed pentagonal 
work, having on its four land faces two tiers of case- 
mate quarters, a deep dry ditch and a heavy battery to 
resist a land attack, and on its channel front seventeen 
large casemates for storage and other purposes. It 
mounts its channel-bearings o-uns en barbette. It is 
intended to supply quarters for the garrison and act as 
a keep or citadel for all the defensive works occupying 
this position. This work will be able to throw a heavy 
•fire from a commanding position upon vessels attempt- 
ing to pass through the Narrows. The four land faces 
were, for all defensive purposes, finished in 1865. In 
December, 1869, a plan giving such increased depth 



98 NEW YORK. 

to the casemates that heavy rifled guns could be 
mounted over them en barbette, was adopted and 
carried into execution. 

Battery Hudson was commenced in 1841, and was 
finished in 1843. Together with the North and South 
CHff Batteries, it occupies the slope of the hill between 
Fort Tompkins and the water. These works are able 
to bring a powerful direct fire upon the channel leading 
up to and through the Narrows. 

The South Mortar Battery was commenced in 1872, 
and is situated south of Fort Tompkins, and directly 
in the rear of Battery Hudson extension. It is 
designed to throw a heavy vertical fire upon vessels 
approaching the Narrows from the Lower Bay. 

These powerful works are as yet unfinished, but 
when completed and properly armed, will render the 
passage of an enemy's fleet through The Narrows a 
doubtful, if not an impossible, undertaking. They are 
so peaceful now in repose that we cannot obtain any- 
thing like an accurate idea of their formidable charac- 
ter. On the Fourth of July, and on other national 
holidays, during the firing of the noonday salute, they 
present a grand sight. From both sides of the Nar- 
rows tongues of fire dart forth from the heavy guns, 
and the waters of the bay tremble under the prolonged 
roar of artillery. 

Our steamer passes through the Narrows, and now 
darts out into the broad Lower Bay. The Staten 
Island Hills sweep away in a graceful curve to the 
southwest, and under them lies Raritan Bay, a small 
arm of New York Bay, through which the Raritan 
River empties into the sea. 



QUARANTINE. 99 

Out in the Bay, a mile or so below the Narrows, are 
Dix and Hoffman Islands, occupied by the State of New 
York as a Quarantine Station. This is the Lower 
Quarantine. One hears so much of Quarantine that it 
may be interesting to look a little more closely at this 
famous place. 

"Quarantine is divided into two' sections, generally 
known as 'upper' and 'lower' Quarantine. From 
October to April the boarding is done at the upper sta- 
tion, the grounds of which lie between Fort Wads- 
worth and Clifton Landing, on Staten Island, a little 
over a half mile from either point. It is here that the 
health officers reside, viz : Dr. Vanderpoel, the senior 
officer, and his deputies, Drs, J. McCartney and Thomp- 
son. During the other months of the year vessels 
coming from the West Indies, South America, the west 
coast of Africa, and from infected ports, are visited at 
the lower station, which is situated at West Bank, 
about two miles below Fort Wadsworth, and the same 
distance from shore. The boarding station is the old 
hulk Illinois, formerly belonging to the Government, 
and transferred to the use of the State for an indefinite 
period. She can also be used as a hospital, having all 
the appurtenances on board for such a purpose. Near it 
are the two quarantine islands, known as Dix and Hoff- 
man Islands. The former is used for the reception of 
cholera and yellow fever patients, except when both 
diseases prevail at the same time, when those sick with 
one disease are quartered on one island and the remain- 
der on the other, as the law prescribes that persons 
sick with different diseases are not to be put in the 
same hospital. Smallpox patients are sent to Black- 



100 NEW YORK. 

well's Island, and those with Typhus or ship fever are 
sent to Ward's Island. On the arrival of infected ves- 
sels, all well persons are given their freedom as soon 
as practicable, after having their clothing thoroughly 
fumigated. Before being admitted to the hospital the 
clothing of the sick is removed and thrown into a solu- 
tion of^'carbolic acid, and the persons thoroughly fumi- 
gated. The only diseases against which quarantine 
applies are yellow fever, cholera, typhus, or ship fever, 
smallpox, and any disease of a contagious or pesti- 
lential nature. Vessels from foreign ports, and from 
domestic ports south of Cape Henlopen, and vessels 
upon which any persons shall have been sick durmg 
the voyage, are subject to visitation by the health officer, 
but are not detained beyond the time requisite for 
proper examination, unless an infectious disease shall 
have occurred during the voyage. Persons recently 
exposed to smallpox, with insufficient evidence of 
effective vaccination, are vaccinated as soon as practi- 
cable, and detained until the operation has taken effect. 
Vessels arriving from any place where disease subject 
to quarantine existed at the time of their departure, 
or which have had cases of such disease on board 
during the voyage, are quarantined at least thirty days 
after their arrival, provided this occurs between the 
first of April and first of November. If a vessel be 
found in a condition which the health officer should 
deem dangerous to the public health, the vessel and 
cargo are detained until the case is duly considered by 
him. Vessels in an unhealthy state, whether there has 
been sickness on board or not, are not passed by the 
doctor until they have been cleansed and ventilated. 



QUARANTINE REGULATIONS. 101 

If in the judgment of the health officer the vessel 
requires it, he may order a complete purification, and 
remand it to quarantine anchorage until disinfection is 
perfected. A vessel has the right, before breaking- out 
her cargo, in preference to being quarantined, of put- 
ting to sea; but before exercising this right the health 
ofhcer is required to satisfy himself that the sick in 
such cases will be taken care of for the voyage, and to 
take care of those who prefer to remain. 

"During the past summer a vigilant inspection has 
been made of all vessels arriving from Savannah as 
well as other ports where yellow fever was prevalent. 
Every vessel has been fumigated with chlorine gas, 
special attention being giving to European vessels car- 
rying a large number of steerage passengers. Many 
complaints have been made on account of the charges 
for fumigation, which range from ^lo to ^^25 for each 
vessel. At first glance these may seem exorbitant, but 
it is not the material alone which costs, but the work is 
attended with much danger, and hence large wages are 
paid. It requires at least three persons, besides the 
doctor, to fumigate a vessel. The schedule of prices 
was not made by the Health Board, but by a board 
constituted for that purpose, of which the Mayors of 
New York and Brooklyn were members. It is stated 
that a new board, to establish a new schedule, is to be 
appointed. 

"The two deputy health officers divide their duties by 
taking alternate days of duty, twenty-four hours each 
time. Though they are not obliged to visit vessels 
after sunset, as a matter of accommodation to sailing 
vessels in tow, which are under extra expense, they 



102 NEW YORK. 

frequently make visits until midnight. They also board 
coasting vessels after sunset, when it is almost certain 
that they have had no sickness which would subject 
them to quarantine, but all vessels with a large num- 
ber of passengers must lie at anchor until sunrise before 
being boarded, so that they may undergo careful inspec- 
tion. Between the first of November and the first of 
April, vessels from domestic ports are permitted to go 
to the city without being boarded by the health officer, 
the quarantine regulations for them being declared 
"off" during that interval. It frequendy happens that 
at sunrise a fleet of a dozen or fifteen vessels may have 
anchored off Quarantine Station during the night, and 
the doctor is several hours in making his tour. As the 
first round of visitations is made before breakfast, it 
sometimes delays the taking of that meal until late In 
the day ; in fact, regular hours are an impossibility to 
those attached to the station. Usually vessels are 
boarded from the quarantine tug Governor Fenton, but 
it happened a short time since, during the first part of 
a storm, that the tug broke her shaft, and a small boat 
was used. The doctor appeared at sunrise fully 
equipped in his storm-clothes, and started on his tour. 
A large fleet had collected, and through a driving rain 
and choppy sea, for four hours, he went from one vessel 
to another in pursuit of his investigations, and his labors 
were not ended until after eleven o'clock. During the 
gale, though very few vessels arrived, the duties of the 
health officer were arduous. Running alongside a great 
ocean steamer with a "Jacob's ladder" over the side, 
the doctor would wait his chances for the sea to lift the 
boat, and then grasping the " man-ropes," scramble up 



THE OUTER BAY. 103 

the side of the ship and make the necessary investio-a- 
tion of the vessel and persons on board. The present 
board has been in office since 1871, while some of the 
deputies have seen longer service." 

To the northward, or on our left, are the immense 
hotels and other structures of Coney Island, all plainly 
visible, and seemingly alive with people. As we steam 
on, now turning our course to the eastward, Rockaway 
and Rockaway Beach come in sight, and on their white 
and distant shores we see the monster hotel and the 
other caravansaries which make this place a formidable 
rival to Coney Island as a breathing place for the 
Metropolis. 

The Bay grows wider, and the swell increases as we 
speed to the Eastward. On the south we now see 
plainly the bold headlands of the Neversink High- 
lands, and in a short while Sandy Hook, with its tall 
lighthouses and dark, frowning fort, are directly off our 
starboard quarter. Over the whole scene the clear sun 
sends a flood of brilliancy; the air is cool and bracing, 
and the water smooth. The boat dances gaily over 
the waves, and at length we pass the bar and are at 
sea. The Light-ship nods dreamily to us far out on 
the blue waters, as if inviting a visit from us ; but we 
do not go so far .to sea. A short distance beyond the 
bar the steamer puts about, and turning its head to 
the westward, starts on its return to the city. We 
enjoy a delightful sail up the Bay, and as the sun is 
sinking behind the distant Jersey hills, we pass through 
the Narrows, and speeding over the gold-tinged waters 
of the Inner Bay, are soon landed at the pier from 
which we started on our voyage of delight. 



104 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER V. 

SANDY HOOK. 

DESCRIPTION OF "THE HOOK " — A NOTED LANDMARK — A SANDY WASTE — THE COVE — THE BEACH 

THE LIGHT-SHIPS — THE LIFE SAVING STATION — SANDY HOOK LIGHTHOUSE — ITS HISTORY 

THE keeper's HOUSE— WRECKS— in THE LIGHT-TOWER— A GRAND VIEW— OCEAN CEME- 
TERY — THE FORTIFICATIONS — TESTING THE HEAVY GUNS — THE NORTH LIGHT — THE SYRENS 
— THE TELEGRAPH STATION. 

Nineteen miles seaward from New York, on the 
western side of the Bay, is a narrow strip of white 
sand, projecting northward into the bright waters. 
Seen from a steamer's deck on a clear day it gleams 
like a streak of polished silver; but when the skies are 
dull and gray, or overhung with clouds, it lies leaden 
and dead in the half light. This is Sandy Hook, a long, 
low, sandy peninsular of drift formation, the continua- 
tion of a sand reef skirting the New Jersey coast. It 
projects northward five miles into the Lower Bay of 
New York, and forms the eastern breakwater of Sandy 
Hook Bay. In width it varies from fifty yards at the 
Neck, near Highlands Bridge, where jetties of brush- 
wood form but a frail protection against easterly 
storms, to a full mile at the point where the main light 
is located. 

Many an eye has watched this strip of sand sadly as 
some outgoing steamer turned its head to the sea and 
began its long way across the Atlantic ; and many a 
heart has beat more quickly as it came plainly into 
view, the homeward voyage over, for beyond it lie the 
bright waters and the smiling shores of home. 



SANDY HOOK LIGHT-SHIPS. 105 

A pleasant and profitable afternoon may be spent in 
a visit to this interesting- spot. Taking the Long 
Branch steamer, we are carried swifdy clown the Inner 
Bay, through the Narrows, and out upon die broad 
bosom of the Lower Bay, which is finally left to the 
eastward, and our steamer passing into the calmer 
waters of Sandy Hook Bay, or, as it is more commonly 
called, " the Cove," lands us at the wharf of the New 
Jersey Southern Railway. Once on shore, we see a 
waste of sand all around us, covered thickly in parts 
with cedars and a scrub undergrowth, with clear patches 
of shining white here and there, and at intervals are a 
number of buildings which are used for various pur- 
poses. Leaving the railroad, we take our way over 
the sands towards the point of the Hook, and soon 
reach the bricrht and shining^ beach. At our feet the 
breakers roll in lazily with a monotonous plash as they 
waste themselves on the shore. Far away stretches 
the blue Atlantic, calm and fair to look upon now, but 
terrible at times. When the fierce gales of winter 
sweep down upon the coast, the surf comes rolling in 
"mountain high," and dashes upon the beach with a 
wild, angry roar, never to be forgotten by those who 
have listened to it. About a mile and a half to the 
eastward is the Scotland Light-ship, rocking lazily upon 
the placid sea, and six miles further east the Sandy 
Hook Light-ship is seen rising and falling with the long, 
regular heave of the ocean. The latter ship marks 
the point from which all vessels bound for New York 
shape their course for the Lower Bay, and from which 
the European steamers begin to reckon their voyages to 
the Old World. It is painted red, and carries two fixed 



106 NEW YORK. 

red lights elevated forty-five feet above the surface of 
the water. At night they glare out upon the waves 
like two great sleepless eyes, welcoming the seaman 
home, and telling him of the dangers that lie in his 
path. When the mists settle down over sea and shore, 
you can hear the hoarse voice of its great fog horn 
moaning across the deep, warning the watchful mari- 
ner that the shore and the breakers are near. Now, 
in the bright calm day, it sways idly with the waves, 
and looks lonely and forlorn. Far down toward the 
horizon is the lono- black trail of the smoke of one of the 
outward bound steamers, and in every direction the 
sunlight flashes back from the white sails of various 
kinds of craft, leaving and making for the Bay. 

Close at hand is a low, red building, used as a life- 
saving station. It is provided with all the appliances 
necessary to the humane work to which it is devoted, 
and is in charge of a keeper and a competent force. 
From April 15th to September 15th a careful watch is 
kept along the beach, and two patrols nightly pace the 
sands on the lookout for vessels in distress. For some 
years, however, they have had but little opportunity to 
show their skill. Few vessels now come ashore at 
Sandy Hook. Long Branch, Squan, and Barnegat, 
lower down the Jersey coast, have been the scenes of 
almost all the recent wrecks. Yet the Hook has had 
its share of disasters, as the light-keeper will tell you, 
if you are fortunate enough to draw him into conver- 
sation. 

Before us, and not far back from the point of the 
Hook, is the main light-tower, and pressing on, we are 
soon at the foot of it. This spot has been the site of 



THE LIGHTHOUSE. 107 

one of the principal lighthouses on our coast from a 
very early period of our history. In 1679-80, Gover- 
nor Andrews, of New York, urged upon Governor Car- 
teret, of East Jersey, the necessity of establishing a 
light, or " sea marks for shipping upon Sandy Point," 
as die Hook was then called. Nothing came of this 
suggestion, and for eighty years the shore remained in 
darkness. The necessity for a light grew more appa- 
rent everyday, however; and in 1761 the merchants 
of New York began to take steps toward establishing 
one. The money was raised by two lotteries, which 
were authorized for the purpose by the Assembly of 
New York, and in May, 1762, the merchants of New 
York purchased a tract of four acres at the point of 
the Hook, from Robert and Isaiah Hartshorne, the 
owners of the peninsula, for the sum of ^750, or about 
^3750 in United States money. By this purchase 
New York acquired the northern part of the peninsula. 
It remained the property of that State until it was 
ceded by it to the General Government, which, some 
years later, purchased from the Hartshorne family all 
the remainder of the peninsula as far south as Yqung's 
creek. The first lighthouse was completed, and the 
lamps were lit, in 1764. It was built of stone, and 
" measured from the surface of the ground to the top 
of the lighthouse 106 feet." The claim of the Province 
of New York to the orimnal four acres was confirmed 
by the British Government, and an act of George the 
Third, dated May 22d, 1762, provided that actions for 
trespasses on Sandy Hook should be tried by the 
courts of New York. To defray the cost of maintain- 
ing the light. New York levied a duty of three pence 



108 NEW YORK, 

per ton on all vessels entering the port. During the 
first year after the lamps were lit, this duty realized the 
handsome sum of ^^48 7, 6s., gd., from which it will be 
seen that the commerce of New York had grown to 
very respectable proportions. In March, 1776, the 
British fleet being daily expected in the Bay, the Pro- 
vincial Congress caused the lights to be removed. It 
seems, however, that the walls were not destroyed, 
and at a later period of the war of the Revolution the 
building was occupied and fortified by the British. 

The present lighthouse is identical with that of 1764, 
as far as the walls are concerned. Various improve- 
ments have been made in the edifice, such as lining the 
interior with brick, and replacing the old wooden stairs 
with a more substantial structure of iron. The lens is 
of French construction, and is ninety feet from the 
ground, and the lamps are of the most improved style. 
Near the foot of the tower is the cottage of the keeper, 
with its pleasant shade trees and pretty garden, and 
close at hand is the barn, with its cow sheds, built of 
wreck wood, that has been cast ashore by the merci- 
less waves. Many a stout vessel has contributed its 
share to the construction of these humble sheds, and 
each plank and post, each rafter and beam, has its 
story of manly daring, high hopes, storm and wreck, 
despair and death, all swallowed up by the dark waters 
that beat upon the sands. Nightly, for nineteen long 
years, has Keeper Patterson climbed the long iron 
stairs, trimmed his lamps, and sent their bright rays 
far over the waves, and many an interesting story can 
he relate of the wrecks that have strewn the beach 
during this long period. Since he first lit these lamps. 



RELICS OF STORM AND WRECK. 109 

more than fifty wrecks have occurred within sight of 
Sandy Hook Hght. " Here almost every object offers a 
suggesdon of storm and disaster. That arm-chair on 
the piazza drifted ashore from the brig Swett, which 
foundered off the east shore during the winter of 1868. 
Here is a remnant from the EngHsh ship Clyde, and 
that one from the brig Prosper, which, during a terrific 
gale, drove on the bar near the west beacon. Here is 
a figure-head that once danced over the waves, defiant 
of storms, now warped and weather-stained ; and on 
the side of the barn, just below the dove cot, is a stern- 
board, bearing the name Trojan, close to which nestle 
the cooing doves. One side of the hencoop is en- 
closed by a panel from a French brig, elaborately 
carved with sprays of foliage, which, when it was dis- 
entangled in fragments from the seawrack upon the 
beach, was o-orcreous with orildinof, but which, with the 
exception of a bright speck here and there, is now bare 
and brown." 

From the lantern the eye rests upon a glorious sight. 
On one side is the ocean, stretching away to the ho- 
rizon, with vessels of all classes dotting its surface ; 
and on the other the lower bay, studded with ships, 
and drawing in to the Narrows, beyond which rise the 
shipping of the inner bay and the distant spires of New 
York. Near the end of the Hook is the unfinished 
fort, which guards the a^ichorage within Sandy Hook 
Bay, where safe at anchor ride numbers of craft of all 
descriptions. Far across the bay is Long Island, and 
you can make out with a glass the great hotels at 
Rockaway ; while nearer to New York Coney Island 
looms up, with its iron tower, its famous pier, and the 



110 NEW YORK. 

huge hostelries that form so marked a feature of New 
York summer Hfe. Across Sandy Hook Bay are the 
picturesque Highlands of Neversink, with their trim 
Hghthouses, and the white hotels nestling at their feet ; 
and beyond this the bold heights of Staten Island close 
in the view to the westward. Down the coast Long 
Branch is dimly seen, and along the shore a railway 
train is speeding swiftly towards the Hook. Overhead 
the fish-hawks wheel and scream,watching for whatever 
prey chance may bring within reach of their skillful 
swoop. 

Not far distant from the lighthouse is " Ocean Ceme- 
tery," a small enclosure, dark with cedars. Here, 
under the humble crosses and headboards, sleep the 
unknown sailors whom the sea, merciful in its cruelty, 
cast ashore from storm and wreck, for kindly hands to 
bless with Christian burial. The sand grrass and 
brambles grow thickly over the lowly, lonely graves, 
and the winds shriek and the surf roars by them 
through winter's cold and summer's heat; yet they 
sleep well, the men that lie below ; and from time to 
time new tenants come to the little graveyard, craving 
the rest that wind and wave denied them in life. 

Leaving the eastern beach and the sea, we cross the 
peninsula to the west beach, the fort and the point of 
the Hook, guided by the thunder tones of heavy ord- 
nance, which grow louder as we press onward. 

Before reaching the fort we come to the Barracks, 
two long lines of two-story houses separated by a 
sandy street a hundred feet wide, in the midst of which 
are the pump and the school-house. In the latter, a 
school is taught, the attendants being the children 



INHABITANTS OF SANDY HOOK. IH 

of the dwellers upon the Hook. The Barracks were 
built in 1856-57, and were designed for the accom- 
modation of the men engaged in the work of buildin(T 
the fort. This force amounted to five hundred men at 
one period of the late Civil War, when the work was 
pushed forward with great energy. They are now oc- 
cupied by the government employees connected with 
the ordnance department and the lighthouse, life-sav- 
ing and signal services, and by the Western Union 
Telegraph operators. These, with their families, num- 
ber about fifty souls, and constitute more than one-half 
of the population of the Hook. Immediately to the east 
of the Barracks are the old and new quarters for offi- 
cials, the latter a handsome brick building. 

Beyond the Barracks lies the fort, an unfinished 
structure, upon which the work has been suspended for 
many years. The works occupy a commanding position, 
and from them one can obtain a fine view of the ocean 
and the Bay. The fort, which is at present nameless, 
will probaby be called " Fort Clinton." It ranks next 
to Fortress Monroe, and will be the second in size in 
the United States, coverlncr with its outworks eiohteen 
or twenty acres. It is constructed, as far as it has been 
carried, of massive masonry with a granite facing, and 
is intended to defend the entrance to the Bay by the 
Main Channel, which is half a mile distant from it, and 
by the Swash Channel, which is a mile further to the 
northward. The main battery, or lower tier of guns, is 
completed, but the progress of the work has been ar- 
rested for more than half a score of years by the 
changes in modern artillery, which may yet require 
many modifications of the original plan. 



112 NEW YORK. 

Still nearer to the point of the Hook is the North 
Light. Close by are the two steam fog horns, called the 
Syrens, which in thick weather give out terrific blasts, 
six seconds in duration, at intervals of forty seconds. 

On the east beach, near the Syrens, are the head- 
quarters of the Ordnance Department, a model insti- 
tution in all its details. Here are brought the heavy 
guns, and other ordnance introduced by the Govern- 
ment from time to time, to be tested. The guns are 
mounted on the platform near the beach, and are fired 
by electricity from the office, two hundred and fifty 
feet distant. 

Close by is the station of the Western Union Tele- 
graph Company, a tower seventy feet in height, with 
port-holes commanding every point of the compass. 
At the top is a small chamber, ten feet square, furnished 
with a desk, telegraph instruments, chairs, lamps, a 
stove, and telescopes and marine glasses of various 
kinds. It is a pleasant and breezy place in summer, 
but in winter it is bleak beyond description, and the 
stove is kept at a red heat, to render the room inhabit- 
able. Here, year in and year out, is stationed an opera- 
tor, whose business it is to report the approach of 
incoming ships and steamers. A wire connects the 
station directly with the principal office of the company 
in New York, and also with the office of the Maritime 
Association in Beaver street. By means of the "Inter- 
national Code of Signals" each vessel, by hoisting 
certain flags, or combination of flags, makes herself 
known to the lookout in the tower, who at once tele- 
graphs the news of her arrival to New York. Vessels 
are reported only during the day. 



THE NEVERSINK HIGHLANDS. 113 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE NEVERSINK HIGHLANDS. 

SITUATION OF THE HIGHLANDS — THE SHREWSBURY RIVER — RED BANK — ORIGIN OP THE NAME 

OF THE HIGHLANDS AS SEEN FROM THE SEA THE LIGHT-TOWERS — A MAGNIFICENT LIflHT 

— VIEW FROM THE TOWER — THE PICTURES IN THE LENSES — A GLIMPSE OF FAIRY LAND. 

Along the New Jersey coast runs a narrow strip of 
sand, terminating at its northern end in the peninsula 
of Sandy Hook, which has already been described. On 
one side of it the waves of the Atlantic roll in white 
breakers upon the shore, and along the other the 
Shrewsbury River flows peacefully, and empties into 
Sandy Hook Bay. At its source in the interior of New 
Jersey, and as far down its course as the town of Red 
Bank, it is a mere streamlet, wandering lazily between 
high banks and through a rich and finely wooded 
country. At Red Bank it broadens into a wide estuary, 
and maintains this character until its waters find their 
resting place in Sandy Hook Bay. 

As the river nears the bay, the left-hand shore 
increases in height, and finally rises into a line of bold 
verdure-clad hills known as the Neversink Hig-hlands. 
They extend along the coast for several miles, com- 
manding fine views of the Bay of New York and the 
ocean. They "have the post of honor among the 
American hills. They stand near the principal portal 
of the Continent, the first land to greet the curious eye 
of the stranger and to cheer the heart of the return- 
ing wanderer. The beauty of these wooded heights, 
the charming villas that stud their sides, the grace of 



114: N^EW YORK. 

their undulating lines, give to the traveler prompt 
assurance that the country he visits is not only blessed 
with rare natural beauty, but that art and culture have 
suitably adorned it. The delight with which the wearied 
ocean voyager greets the shores that first rise upon the 
horizon has often been described; but these 
shores have a rare sylvan beauty, that opens hour by 
hour as the vessel draws near. When, instead of 
frowning rocks or barren sands, he beholds noble hills 
clothed to their brows with green forests, fields, and 
meadows basking w^ith summer beauty in the sun, cot- 
tages nestling amid shrubbery, and spires lifting above 
clustering tree tops, the picture possesses a charm 
which only he who first beholds it can realize. It is 
such a green paradise that the Neversink Hills offers 
to the gaze of every ocean wanderer who enters the 
harbor of New York." 

The name of the Highlands is variously spelled. It 
is written somet'mes Navasink, again Navisink, at other 
times Ncvisink, and finally as Neversink. " The correct 
method can be determined only by a knowledge of its 
origin, and of this there appears to be some doubt. 
Navasink is supposed to be an Indian word, meaning 
fishing place ; and, of course, applied to the river ; but 
others claim that this is but a common instance of a natural 
desire to find an aboriginal verb for our nomenclature, 
and that the term is really Neversmk, having been be- 
stowed by sailors, as expressive of the long time these 
hills remain in view to the outward voyager. There is 
more romance in the Indian term, but, so far, the weight 
of authority does not appear to be in its favor." 

However this may be, there can be no doubt that the 



HIGHLANDS LIGHTHOUSES. 115 

Highlands form one of the most interesting, as well as 
one of the pleasant features of New York Bay. They are 
easily reached from the city, as the Red Bank boat will 
land the visitor at the foot of Beacon Hill, near the 
mouth of the river. Once ashore, we follow the path- 
way up the steep bluff, and finally reach the twin light- 
houses that crown its summit. These lighthouses 
form the chief feature in any view of the hills, and are 
very picturesque, from whatever point seen. The two 
towers stand wide apart from each other, on the brow 
of the hill, but are connected by a long structure, much 
lower in height, and at a point midway between the 
towers rises a massive castellated gateway, with an 
arched entrance, from which floats the flag of the Re- 
public. One of the towers is square, and rises to a 
considerable height. It contains the finest and most 
powerful light on the Atlantic coast. Its rays can be 
easily seen at a distance of thirty-five miles, or as far 
as the height of the tower lifts the ho'rizon. It is the 
first indication of land seen by vessels approaching the 
Bay at night. The light is of French construction, and 
secured the prize at one of the great International Ex- 
hibitions of France. It was afterwards purchased by 
the United States, for the sum of thirty thousand dol- 
lars. The light in the second tower is a duplicate oi 
this one in construction, but is not so powerful. The 
two lighthouses constitute one station, and are kept in 
the most perfect order. 

Through the courtesy of the keeper we are permit- 
ted to ascend to the lantern of the principal tower, and 
enjoy the superb view which it commands. To the 
eastward is the blue Atlantic, rolling lazily with its 



l\Q NEW YORK. 

long, dreamy heave, for the day is bright and the wind 
is soft and fair. Clouds of white canvas glitter and 
nod in the sunlight, as scores of vessels, outward and 
inward bound, take their way over the waves. There 
is a large steamer just passing out to sea, plungmg 
steadily into the blue water, and- leaving a long, black 
trail of smoke behind. How many hearts beat hope- 
fully in that black shell, soon to be to us a mere speck 
upon the water ; and how many eyes are turned in 
farewell glances to the tower from which we look 
down. How lovingly they will watch it until it smks 
down and fades away on the dim horizon. We wish 
God-speed and a safe voyage to the gallant vessel, 
whose long way across the deep has begun so happily. 
Directly below us the peaceful Shrewsbury flows 
genriy, its bright bosom dotted with many smaller 
craft ;. and amid the trees along the river shore we can 
see the hotels and the white cottages of the little vil- 
lage of Highlands, one of the most popular summer 
resorts in the vicinity of the metropolis. Sandy Hook, 
v;ith its tall lighthouse and the grim outline of the 
unfinished fort, are seen to the northward, seeming 
strangely near in this bright light of a summer after- 
noon"; and within the cove are a score of vessels at 
anchor. Across the bay are Coney Island and Rock- 
away, and in the middle of the outer bay seem to float 
the substantial structures of the Quarantine. To the 
westward are the bold heights of Staten Island, and at 
the Narrows we can see the national ensign flapping 
from the tall flagstaff at Fort Richmond. The bay is 
full of shipping, some going and some coming, and 
several large excursion steamers are darting swiftly 



THE LANTERN. 117 

among them, laden with hundreds of the dwellers in 
the great city, who are seeking rest and recreation in 
the cool sea breeze on this warm afternoon. 

Turning from this wonderful view we examine the 
lantern, which the genial light-keeper explains to us. 
As he raises the curtain that is spread over the lenses 
by day, we are startled at the picture which is reflected 
in the polished surface. The sky, the sea, the bay, 
every object within sight, is reproduced in excellent 
imitation upon the convex central crystal, and with a 
faithfulness and delicacy which the most gifted artist 
would despair of accomplishing. How wonderful the 
picture is, so small and yet so true, and giving out all 
the rare tints and shades of nature itself It is like a 
scene of fairy land, and grows more beautiful as we 
continue to gaze upon it. 

The keeper explains to us the construction and 
mode of workingr the lieht. We examine the deli- 
cate and costly machinery by which the bright flashes 
are sent far over the sea, and easily imagine how 
eagerly the homeward-bound seaman must watch for 
them as they shine out over the dark waves, telling 
him that port and rest are at hand. Then, as the after- 
noon is declining, we descend the tower and take our 
way down the hill back to the pleasant hotel at High- 
lands, to wait for the morning boat that is to convey 
us back to the city. When the night comes on we 
stroll out once more and watch the bright gleams as 
they dart out from the tall towers on the hill, and shine 
far over the waves, signals of hope and safety. 



118 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER VII. 

MUNICIPAL GOVERNMENT. 

ORGANIZATION OF THE CITY GOVERNMENT — THE MAYOR AND BOARD OF ALDERMEN — THE COM- 
MISSIONERS—DESCRIPTION OF THE VARIOUS MUNICIPAL DEPARTMENTS— POWERS OF OFFI- 
CIALS^THE COURTS — POLICE JUSTICES — THE MEN BY WHOM NEW YORK IS GOVERNED — RESPON. 
SIBILITY OF THE BETTER CLASSES — FROM THE GROG SHOP TO CIVIL POWER — WHO THE LEAD- 
ERS ARE — THE " boss" — ^THE RING — HOW BOSS TWEED MAINTAINED HIS POWER — SPASMODIC 
EFFORTS AT REFORM — MULHOOLYISM INNEWYORK — AN INSIDE VIEW OF MUNICIPAL POLITICS 
— THE SLAVE OF THE RING — LOOKING OUT FOR THE " BOYS " — THE INTERESTS OF THE CITY 
NEGLECTED — THE POPULAR WILL DEFIED BY THE RING. 

The City of New York is governed by a Mayor and 
a Board of twenty-two Aldermen, with various Boards 
of Commissioners. It is divided into twenty-four 
wards and 557 election districts, and constitutes the 
First Judicial District of the State. It sends 5 Senators 
and 21 Assemblymen to the State Legislature, and 7 
Representatives to Congress. The Mayor is elected 
by the vote of the people for a term of two years, and 
receives a salary of ^12,000 per annum. The Alder- 
men are chosen annually by the popular vote, and 
receive each an annual salary of ^4000,. except the 
President of the Board, who is paid $5000. "Six are 
elected by the voters of the city at large (no one being 
permitted to vote for more than four candidates), and 
three from each of the four lower Senate districts (no 
one being permitted to vote for more than two). The 
upper Senate district with the 23d and 24th wards elects 
four Aldermen (no one being permitted to vote for 
more than three)." 

The Mayor appoints the Commissioners and heads 
of departments, with the consent of the Board of Alder- 



BOARDS OF FINANCE AND TAXES. 119 

men. These hold office for periods varying from three 
to six years, and receive salaries ranging from $3000 
to ^15,000 a year. 

The principal department under the City Govern- 
ment is that of Finance. It has charge of all the fiscal 
affairs of the corporation, and is presided over by the 
Comptroller, who receives a salary of ^10,000 per 
annum, and occupies the most important position, from 
a political point of view, in the city. He is generally 
the "Boss" of New York politics, and wields his power 
in a despotic manner. Next in importance is the City 
Chamberlain or Treasurer. He is appointed by the 
Mayor, and is confirmed by the Board of Aldermen. 
He receives a salary of ^30,000, but out of this has to 
pay his office expenses, clerk hire, etc. 

The Department of Taxes and Assessments ranks 
next in importance. It consists of three Commis- 
sioners, appointed by the Mayor and confirmed by the 
Board of Aldermen. They hold office for six years, 
and one of them is President of the Board. The 
President receives $6500 a year; the others $5000. 
This Board fixes the rate of taxation upon real and 
personal property, and collects the taxes due the city. 
The Mayor, Comptroller, President of the Board of 
Aldermen, and President of the Department of Taxes, 
constitute a Board of Apportionment, which fixes the 
amount to be raised each year by taxation. This Board 
also decides how much shall be spent by the City Gov- 
ernment, and all appropriations for any branch of that 
government must receive its approval. It is thus really 
in possession of powers superior to those of the Board 
of Aldermen, and constitutes a check upon that body. 



120 • NEW YORK. 

The President of the Board of Taxes and two others, 
appointed by the Mayor, are Commissioners of 
Accounts, whose duty it is to examine the accounts 
and expenditures of the various branches of the City 
Government. They are removable at the pleasure of 
the Mayor. 

The Department of Public Works is presided over 
by a Commissioner, appointed by the Mayor and con- 
firmed by the Board of Aldermen for a term of four 
years. He receives an annual salary of ^10,000. The 
Department has charge of the Public Buildings, streets, 
sewers, water, gas, etc., and expends annually about 
$1,600,000. 

The Department of Buildings is in charge of a super- 
intendent, appointed by the Mayor and confirmed by 
the Board of Aldermen. He holds office for six years, 
and receives an annual salary of $6500. This department 
supervises the construction of new buildings, and ad- 
ditions to old ones within the city limits. All plans for 
new buildings, or alterations of old ones, must receive 
its approval. The department also has power to inspect 
all buildings in the city with regard to their safety^ 
and to require all uns^Cfe structures to be pulled down 
or properly repaired; and to compel owners of build- 
ings to provide the proper fire escapes. 

The Law Department has charge of all the law busi- 
ness of the city of New York. Its head is the Corpora- 
tion Counsel, who is appointed by the Mayor and con- 
firmed by the Board of Aldermen, for a period of four 
years. He receives a salary of $15,000 per annum. 
His principal subordinates are the Corporation Attor- 
ney, who receives $6000 a year ; and the Public Ad- 



THE BOARD OF HEALTH, 121 

ministrator, with a salary of ^^5000. The first has 
charge of the prosecution of violators of city ordi- 
nances, etc. ; the second administers upon the estates of 
persons who die intestate, and the estates of foreigners 
dying in New York. 

The Health Department, or " Board of Health," as 
it is better known, consists of the President of the 
Board of Police, the Health Official of the Port (who 
is a State, not a City Official), and two Commis- 
sioners, one of whom must have been for five years 
a practicing physician. The last two are appointed by 
the Mayor, and are confirmed by the Board of Alder- 
men, for a period of six years. The Commissioner, 
who is not a physician, is the President of the Board. 
The Board has charge of all matters relating to the health 
and sanitary condition of the city. It is divided into two 
bureaux : the sanitary bureau, the head of which is the 
Sanitary Superintendent, with a salary of $4800 per 
annum, and the bureau of records, over which is the 
Register of Records, with a salary of ^2700 a year. 
The first bureau prepares the sanitary regulations of 
the city, and enforces them ; the second records the 
births, deaths and marriages occurring within the city 
limits. It is sometimes called the Bureau of Vital 
Statistics. It gives all permits for burials or removals 
of bodies from the city. 

The Department of Police will be referred to in an- 
other chapter. 

The Excise Department consists of three commis- 
sioners, appointed by the mayor, and confirmed by the 
Board of Aldermen, for a term of years. It receives 
all applications for licenses to sell spirituous or malt 



122 NEW YORK. 

liquors within the Hmits of the corporation; decides 
whether the appHcant is a proper person to sell liquor, 
and his establishment a fit place to be licensed, and 
gives the license if the decision is favorable. Licenses 
are granted for one year only, and must be renewed 
annually. 

"The courts of general jurisdiction in civil matters, 
are the Supreme Court for the First District, with five 
justices (salary $17,500), and the Superior Court and 
Court of Com.mon Pleas, with six judges each (salary 
$15,000). The justices and judges are elected for a 
term of fourteen years. The Surrogate, Recorder and 
City Judge (salary $15,000 each), are elected for six 
years. The superior criminal courts are the Oyer and 
Terminer, held by a justice of the Supreme Court, and 
the General Sessions, held by the Recorder or City 
Judge. The Marine Court has civil jurisdiction to the 
amount of $1000, and consists of six judges (salary 
$10,000), elected for six years. For purposes of dis- 
trict courts, which have civil jurisdiction to the amount 
of $250, the city is divided into ten judicial districts, in 
each of which a justice (salary $8000) is elected for a 
term of six years. There are eleven police justices 
(salary $8000), appointed by the Mayor, with the con- 
sent of the Board of Aldermen, for a term of ten years, 
each of whom has power to hold a police court in 
either of the six police-court districts. Two police jus- 
tices hold the Court of Special Sessions, with power to 
try cases of misdemeanor. The Sheriff, County Clerk, 
District Attorney and Register, are the principal other 
officials." 

Such is the machinery by which the great American 



FROM THE SLUMS TO CIVIL TOWER. 123 

metropolis is governed. Were it always possible to 
secure the best and most intelligent men of the city for 
the offices included within this vast system, the ar- 
rangement would certainly achieve the results for which 
it was designed — the good government of the city and 
the impartial administration of justice. But apart from 
the judges of the higher courts, who are men of great 
ability and unquestioned integrity, it must be confessed 
that the government of New York is not in the hands 
of either its best or its most thoroughly representative 
citizens. The majority of the office-holders of the great 
city are men whom a reputable citizen would not ask 
into his house. Under the shadows of the temples of 
justice, Mulhoolyism flourishes in all its glory. Go to 
the City Hall, or to any of the various departments, 
and you 'will find the majority of the persons present 
in official capacity, loud-voiced, big-handed, red-faced, 
sinister-eyed men, with coarse features, dull expres- 
sions, heavily-dyed moustaches, and all bearing in their 
personal appearance unmistakable evidences that they 
have risen from the slums to their present position by 
the power — not of intellect or ability, but of " politics." 
The cause of this is not hard to find. The better 
class of New Yorkers have a holy horror of politics, 
and all things pertaining thereunto. They will not at- 
tend the primary ineetings or the nominating conven- 
tions, and, in too many instances, will not even vote. 
Thus the wealth and intelligence, the two conservative 
classes of the city, leave the control of all the vast ma- 
chinery we have described, with all the great and va- 
ried interests dependent upon it, in the hands of pro- 
fessional politicians and their followers. 



124 NEW YORK. 

This beine the case, it becomes interesting- to ask. 
who are the professional poHticians, and from whom do 
they derive their support ? 

The professional politician is generally an Irishman, 
or of Irish descent. ' The immense Irish population of 
New York, which constitutes at least one-fifth of the 
total number of the inhabitants of the city, comprises 
the ruling element in metropolitan politics. It is also 
the most ignorant, as well as the most reckless class 
in the great city. It is blindly devoted to its leaders, 
and obeys their orders implicidy, and without care of 
consequences. It controls the primary meedngs, the 
ward convendons, and even the greater polidcal bodies 
by which the electoral machinery of the city is gov- 
erned. Its leaders are men who have risen from the 
grogshop, by the exercise of bribery and sheer knav- 
ery. Its headquarters are the numerous bar-rooms 
with which the city abounds ; and votes are bought and 
sold; incompetent men are put in nomination and 
elected, and the whole system of free government in 
municipal affairs is thus placed at the mercy of a few 
leaders, who are in their turn subject to the control of 
a central authority, who is commonly known as " the 
Boss." 

The author of that inimitable satire upon American 
politics, " Solid for Mulhooly," thus sums up the system: 

"When one man owns and dominates four wards or 
counties, he becomes a Leader. Half a dozen such 
Leaders constitute what is called a Ring. When one 
Leader is powerful enough to bring three or four such 
Leaders under his yoke, he becomes a Boss, and a 
Boss wields a power as absolute, while it lasts, as that 



MULHOOLYISM IN NEW YORK. 125 

which George III wielded over die diirteen colonies, 
undl diey ungratefully rebelled against him and com- 
menced to murder his soldiers and take away their mus- 
kets and bayonets. The Leaders, the Ring, and the 
Boss combined, constitute the modern system of Ameri- 
can politics, which has been found to work so success- 
fully in all large cides, especially in those which are for- 
tunate enough to have secured a working majority of 
Leaders from Ireland. It has also been tried with en- 
couraging results in several of the oldest and largest 
States of the Union; and even with all the disadvan- 
tages of American birth and prejudices, some men 
have been found who could rule their own States, with 
a fair measure of success, for many years, by combin- 
ing in themselves, at once, all the functions of the Lead- 
ers, the Ring, and the Boss." 

It was such a system as this that enabled Boss 
Tweed and his confederates to hold the greatest city 
of the Union in their grasp for so many years, and to 
wring from the tax payers the enormous sums by which 
they built up their immense fortunes. Indignant out- 
cries were raised from time to time by the Press, but 
the Boss found it easy in some cases to buy up danger- 
ous journals, and where this could not be done, he felt 
safe in the indifference of the better class of voters, and 
above all in the strength of the solid Irish vote, upon 
which he could always rely. Since his downfall we have 
seen another Boss upheld by the same power, and so 
conscious of its support as to be able even to defy the 
better elements of his own party, and strong enough 
to defeat that party because it had dared to oppose 
him and his schemes. True, he is not tainted with the 



126 NEW YORK. 

corruption of Boss Tweed, but his strength in poHtical 
affairs is even greater; and this not because of his over- 
intellectual strength, or his lofty patriotism, but because 
of his undisputed control of the Irish vote. 

Strong as is the Irish vote, it is made stronger by the 
accession of a large class of Americans and voters of 
other nationalities, who are drawn into alliance with it 
by the hope of sharing the plunder which falls into 
the hands of the successful party. " The Boss," who- 
ever he may be, finds these as devoted adherents as 
the Irish, and rewards them accordingly, only keeping 
the most profitable places for the Irish. Take the salary 
list of the city offices, and read the names opposite 
each office, and you will find nine out of ten pure Mile- 
sian, Go into the public offices, and you will hear the 
"rich Irish brogue" as purely and as plentifully as 
though you were in the Green Island itself. These are 
men who form the chairmen of the city, ward, and pre- 
cinct committees ; who dominate the conventions, and 
name apd secure the election of candidates of their 
choice. 

To win success In any legitimate pursuit in New 
York requires the exercise of every power of Intellect, 
shrewdness, industry, and perseverance. The whole 
man is brought out and developed to the full. Not so 
In politics. To win success in this line of life requires 
only an absence of principle, devotion to the Boss, and 
a careful cultivation of the Irish vote. It was by the 
exercise of these qualities that a certain well known 
ex-prize fighter and gambler mounted to a seat in the 
Congress of the United States, where for four years 
he disgraced that august body by his presence. 



AN INSIDE VIEW OF MUNICIPAL POLITICS. 127 

True it is, that once in a long while the better class 
of citizens, driven to desperation by the burdens laid 
upon them, arouse from their indifference, and combine 
in a great movement for reform. Sharp and vigorous 
work is done for a while, and the election results in the 
overthrow of the Ring and the defeat of the Irish vote. 
This done, the good citizens sink back into their former 
indifference, and leave political affairs to take care of 
themselves. Then matters fall back into their old chan- 
nels; a new Ring is formed, a new Boss is created, or 
rather creates himself, the Irish vote reasserts itself, and 
a new era of corruption opens. 

The author we have before quoted, in describing the 
experience of Mr. Michael Mulhooly in his successful 
rise in political life, thus records the results of that 
Honorable Gentleman's observations of the system as 
applied to municipal politics, and the observations, 
though made in another city, apply with equal force to 
the New York system: — 

"He saw that the party organization was composed 
primarily of Precinct Committees, Ward Committees, 
and the City Committee, and secondarily of Conventions 
to place in nomination candidates for various offices to 
be chosen at elections held by the people; and that all 
these various members or parts of the organization 
were provided for and governed by a system of laws 
called Party Rules, which operated like the Constitu- 
tion and laws of a great Commonwealth. He saw that 
while this perfect party organization was ostensibly 
created to insure the success of the party, and thereby 
the good of the people, it had been so ingeniously 
devised as to compel obedience on the part of the 



128 NEW YORK. 

great body of voters, while it placed the entire control 
of the whole machinery in a central head or master 
spirit, composed of one man, or two men, or half a 
dozen men, according to circumstances ; or in other 
words, of the leaders, the Ring, and the Boss. He 
saw also, that however the party rules might be modi- 
fied from time to time, in the apparent interest of the 
^reat body of voters, in their practical operation, they 
would still be found to contribute only toward strength- 
ening the power of those who, by the natural tendency 
of party organization toward centralization of power, 
might, from time to time, constitute the Leaders, the 
Ring, and the Boss. 

"He saw that by this system the Leaders, the Ring, 
and the Boss practically nominated all candidates, and 
as — where the party is largely in the majority, and the 
voters can be kept In the traces — a nomination is equiva- 
lent to an election, they, therefore, practically appointed 
all public officers, under the form of an election by the 
people * ''' * He saw that one who would enter 
the lists as a candidate must give satisfactory proofs 
that he had already rendered valuable services to 
them; that no other man could fill the place with such 
advantaofe to them ; and that he would at all times, and 
under all circumstances, implicitly obey their orders, 
irrespective of consequences, legal, moral, social, or 
political. He saw that if, for instance, one desired to 
be a candidate for judicial honors, he must be able to 
give undoubted assurances, either by his past record, 
or by some satisfactory pledges, that he would hold his 
office as of their gift, and might be at all times safely 
and privately conferred with by them, so as to be 



OPERATION OF RING-RULE. 129 

instructed how to further their interests in matters fall- 
ing within the scope of his judicial functions. 

"He soon saw that this whole system was founded 
on (a) the tendency of every voter to work in the 
traces, and vote for any man ostensibly nominated 
by the party; [d) the strict enforcement of party 
rules ; and {c) the judicious distribution of th(.' 
regularly-salaried offices in the various departments 
of the city government * * ; the various municipal, 
State, and national offices to which only perquisites 
and alhinde profits are attached ; the various appoint- 
ments which may be, from time to time, controlled in 
the various State and national offices * '^' * ''\ 
and of the various contracts for public work, involving 
the outlay of millions of dollars, given to contractors 
who are v/illing not only to rebate, but also to prop- 
erly control, at all times, the thousands of workmen 
whom they employ in the public service "^^ '=' '•' * 

" His examination, though imperfect, had been car- 
ried far enough to show him these important results : 

'*i. That nearly every member of the City Com- 
mittees, and of the various Ward Committees, held a 
lucrative position by the appointment of some Leader, 
whose orders he was compelled to obey. 

" 2. That as these committees fix the times and 
places for holding conventions, select the temporary 
chairmen to organize them, and decide all disputes and 
appeals, they practically control all conventions. 

"3. That every one of these * * department 
employees is presumed to be able to go to a conven- 
tion when ordered to do so, or to send in his place a 
person who will obey orders ; and that these ap- 



130 NEW YORK. 

pointees, as well as the thousands of others in other 
offices and employments, are so distributed through 
the different wards as to be able, when acting in con- 
cert, to control a large majority of all the wards. 

"4. That the Leaders had, in one way or another, 
obtained control of one department of the city govern- 
ment after another, until more than four-fifths of all 
the men employed directly and indirectly in the public 
service, and paid by the public money, were under 
their immediate orders. 

"5. That the Leaders were themselves subject to the 
orders of the Boss, who had made most of them, and 
without whose favor they would be comparatively 
powerless. 

"6 That the Boss was the Great Supreme.'"'^ 

Thus the reader will see that it is a very simple sys- 
tem after all. The Boss names the candidate he wishes 
elected to some city office, and the ward leaders act as 
his lieutenants in the execution of his orders. The man 
so chosen is one upon whom absolute reliance can be 
placed, to stand by the party under any and all circum- 
stances, and to yield implicit obedience to the orders 
of the Boss. Intellectual qualifications are not sought 
after, high moral character and fidelity to the interests 
of the city are not desired. The candidate must be true 
to the party, and obedient to the Boss. The primary 
meetings, under the orders of the Leaders, send dele- 
gates to the Convention pledged to vote for the candi- 
date named by the Boss. The Convention is held, the 
candidate is nominated, and is announced to the world 
as the choice of the party, when in reality he is the 

* "Solid for Mulhooly." G. W. Carleton & Co. New York. pp. 51-54; 57-58. 



POLITICAL CORRUPTION. 131 

choice of one man, the Boss. The election is held, the 
candidate is triumphandy returned by the Irish vote, 
or, if there are not legal votes enough to elect him, the 
returns are skillfully manipulated, and he secures his 
certificate of election. It is all very simple; the choice 
of the Boss once made, the Irish vote does the rest, 
and does it thoroughly. 

Once elected, the candidate is the slave of the Boss 
and the Leaders. It is useless to think of independ- 
ence. He has sold himself, body and soul, to his 
political masters, and henceforth must think as they 
think, and act as they dictate. Now what is expected 
of him is simply this: that he shall use his official 
power to further the passage of all and any schemes 
the Boss or the Leaders may desire to succeed, 
whether he knows them to be corrupt or not. As a 
rule he does know them to be corrupt, but he must 
vote for them. Such schemes are carried through by 
bribery, and the Boss does not object to his faithful 
servant receiving his share of the spoils, and growing 
rich thereby. That is the reward held out to him at the 
beofinnincj. Measures in which the Boss and the Lead- 
ers are interested become very numerous, but each and 
all receive his vote, and little by little the alkmde profits 
of the legislator swell to greater proportions, and 
finally he grows rich, becomes a Leader in his turn, 
and secretly cherishes the hope of one day becoming 
Boss. Meanwhile the true interests of the city suffer, 
the property holders are burdened with useless and 
unjust taxes. The "City Fathers" have no time to 
attend to such matters; they are too busily engaged in 
looking after the interests of the Boss and the Leaders, 



132 NEW YORK. 

and accumulating fortunes for themselves. Then they 
must look out for the interests of "The Boys," as the 
voters who supported them are affectionately termed. 
Offices must be provided for them — without regard to 
their competency to fill them — the bar rooms in their 
respective districts or wards must be looked after, and 
the proper amount of money expended at each in 
treating "The Boys" who cannot be provided with 
office, and a thousand and one other similar things so 
occupy the time of the office holder, that the business 
of the city, to which he has sworn to give his time and 
best efforts, cannot be attended to. Thus it happens 
that the public service of New York, apart from one or 
two departments, is the most inefficient, and the most 
shamefully neglected, of any city in the land. 

In the summer of 1881 the streets of New York 
were filthy beyond precedent. Disease and death 
stalked through the metropolis. Suffering and sorrow 
clouded many an otherwise happy home. Great piles 
of refuse, which had accumulated during the heavy 
snows of the previous winter, lay heaped in the streets, 
rotting in the fierce heat of the sun and scattering their 
poisons on every hand. The press teemed with de- 
scriptions of the horrible scenes to be witnessed, and 
called for the proper execution of the health laws ; the 
physicians of New York warned the city authorities of 
the dangers of a serious pestilence ; mass meetings of 
indignant citizens were held and redress demanded. 
Yet for months nothing was done. The city officials 
had their wine-parties, went on excursions where they 
could find purer air, and deliberately turned a deaf 
ear to the appeals of the great city. Secure in the 



NEGLECT OF THE CTTy's INTERESTS. 133 

Strength of the Irish vote, they laug-hed to scorn all 
threats against their official existence. All the while 
the boss, the leaders, and the ring went on with their 
corrupt schemes, careful only of their own interests, 
and sublimely indifferent to the real welfare of the peo- 
ple. What had they to fear ? Were they not strong 
in the power of the Irish vote ? 



134 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER VIIL 

BROADWAY. 

BARLY HISTORY OP BROADWAY — UNDER THE DUTCH AND HNGLISH RULH— PKJMrTIVE NAME OF 
THE STREET — IT COMMENCES TO GROW — THE GREAT FIRE OF 1 776 — THE BROADWAY OF TO- 
DAY— APPEARANCE OF THE STREET — A STROLL ON BROADWAY — THE LOWER STREET — 
TRINITY CHURCH — THE INSURANCE COMPANIES — THE TELEGRAPH WIRES — MAGNIFICENT 
BUILDINGS — SCENE FROM THE POST-OFFICE — A BROADWAY JAM — LOWER BROADWAY BY 
NIGHT — CHARACTERISTICS OP THE VARIOUS PORTIONS OF THE STREET — VIEW FROM CANAL 
STREET — THE HOTELS — AMONG THE PUBLISHERS — " STEWART's "^GRACE CHURCH — 
BROADWAY AT UNION SQUARE— THE NARROWEST PART — MADISON SQUARE — A GRAND SIGHT — 
UPPER BROADWAY — A STREET OF MARBLE — THE GREAT HOTELS — THE CENTRAL PARK 
REACHED — STREET CARS AND OMNIBUSES — THE NIGHT LIFE OF BROADWAY — SCENES ON THE 
STREET — THE STREET WALKERS — THE ELECTRIC LIGHT — THE MIDNIGHT HOUR — BUSINESS 
ON BROADWAY. 

To the dweller In New York, Broadway is what the 
Boulevards are to the Parisian. It is the centre of 
life, gayety, and business; the great artery through 
which flows the strong life-current of the metropolis. 
From the Bowling Green to the Central Park, a dis- 
tance of five miles, it is lined with stately edifices and 
thronged with an endless crowd of busy workers, rest- 
less pleasure-seekers, the good and the bad, the grave 
and the gay, all hurrying on in eager pursuit of the 
objects before them. To the stranger it is the great 
"show street" of the city, and certainly no more won- 
derful sight can be witnessed than this grand thor- 
oughfare at high noon. 

The history of the street is the history of the city. 
It has grown steadily with it, shared its vicissitudes 
and good fortune, and, like a true mirror, has reflected 
€very phase of the wonderful progress of New York. 

Broadway was laid out as a street by the original 



BROADWAY IN OLD TIMES. 135 

Dutch settlers of New Amsterdam, and was called by 
them the " Heere Straas," or " High Street." In the 
days of the Dutch colony it was lined, especially on 
the east side, with rows of pleasant mansions, the gar- 
dens of which ran back to the marsh, on the present 
site of Broad street. Under the Dutch rule it was ex- 
tended to Wall street, where the city wall terminated 
it ; and beyond this were pleasant fields and pastures, 
where the portly " mynheers " turned out their cows to 
graze, and dreamily smoked their pipes under the 
wide-spreading trees. 

When the English came into possession of the city, 
and changed its name to New York, Broadway took a 
step forward. The character of the buildings was im- 
proved, and Bowling Green became the centre of a 
thickly settled and fashionable district. Mr. Archibald 
Kennedy, His Majesty's Collector of the Port of New 
York, built the house now known as No. i Broadway, 
a stately mansion in its day, and at one time the head- 
quarters of the British General Sir Henry Clinton. 
The great fire of i 776 greatly damaged the street, but 
it was afterwards rebuilt in a more substantial manner. 
By the opening of the nineteenth century, Broadway 
had advanced from the Old Dutch Wall to a point above 
the present City Hall Park, and by 18 18 it was built up 
beyond Duane street. In 1830 it had passed Canal 
street, and the portion between Chambers and Canal 
streets was the fashionable shopping quarter of the 
city. By 1832 it had reached Union Square, and by 1841 
had been extended to Madison square. Since that year 
the growth of the street to the Central Park has been 
steady and rapid. Year after year its various portions- 



13G 



NEW YORK. 



have changed their character. Business lias steadily 
driven out the residences, until now along the whole 
distance of five miles there is scarcely a dwelling house 
proper left. 

The first thing that strikes the stranger in looking 




BROADWAY, LOOKING NORTH FROM EXCHANGE PLACE. 

at Broadway, is its narrowness. The early citizens 
never dreamed of the future greatness of their favorite 
thoroughfare, and laid off a street with an average 
width of sixty feet. For many years past, numerous 



ALONG BROADWAY. 137 

plans have been offered for widening certain portions 
of the street, but each has been abandoned because of 
the immense expense attendant upon the enterprise. 
The probabiHty is, therefore, that Broadway will retain 
its present width for all time. Through this narrow 
street pours an unending throng of vehicles of ever)' 
description, which fairly choke it, and cause it to re- 
sound with the thundering roar of their wheels. The 
sidewalks are filled with handsomely dressed ladies, 
with men of wealth and fashion, with people in plainer 
clothes, representatives of all classes and conditions 
of the people of the city, hurrying on — for everybody 
walks rapidly on Broadway — jostling each other good 
humoredly. Over all pours the bright radiance of the 
sunlight, which seems to shine more beautifully here 
than elsewhere, and on all sides are evidences of the 
wealth and prosperity of the great city. 

A stroll along Broadway, we mean along its entire 
length, is one of the most interesting occupadons to 
which the strancrer in New York can devote himself 
It requires considerable "leg power," for the distance 
is five eood miles, but the scene is so full of interest, 
and there is so much to divert one's thoughts from 
fatigue, that we invite the reader to accompany us. 

We start from the Bowling Green, a small park 
lying between the lower end of Broadway and the 
Battery Park. Here we are in a region once the home 
of wealth and fashion, but now occupied by the ofiices 
of the foreign consuls, and the headquarters of the 
great European steamship lines. Among these are 
the familiar names of the "Cunard," "Inman," "White 
Star," and other leading companies, whose palatial 



138 



NEW YORK. 



Steamers ply over the great ferry between New York 
and Liverpool. Higher up are the heavy importing 
houses, dealing chiefly in wines, and above these are 




MUTUAL LIFE INSURANCE BUILDING. 



the main offices of the great Express Companies. 
Opposite Wall street is the stately edifice of Trinity 




jli ' 




ST. PAUL'S CHURCH. 



140 NEW YORK. 

Church, lying back among the grand trees of its church- 
yard, and surrounded by the time-worn grave stones of 
the old New Yorkers who lie sleeping peacefully amid 
all the turmoil and strife going on around them. The 
tall spire points solemnly heavenward, as if to lift the soul 
above the vulgar worship of mammon in the city below, 
and at intervals the sweet tones of the chimes come 
floating down into the street, telling that wealth is not 
all, folly is not all, pleasure is not all, business is not 
all, but that there is something purer, nobler, waidng 
high above the golden cross which the sunlight bathes 
so lovingly. Looking down Wall street one sees an 
equally busy throng, and catches a glimpse of the 
stately edifices with which the street is lined. 

Passing Trinity Churchyard we notice the immense 
brick building which forms its upper boundary. This 
is the headquarters of the coal trade, not only of the 
city, but of a large portion of the Union, and here 
fortunes are made and lost by wise or unwise dealings 
in " black diamonds." Insurance offices now beo-in to 
multiply on both sides of the street, and on the right 
we notice the superb structure of the Equitable Life 
Insurance Company, above which is the marble build- 
ing of the Mutual Life. These are very Towers of 
Babel, and dwarf the nei^jhborincf structures, which are 
themselves buildings of large proportions. On the left, 
at the corner of Dey street, the tall tower of the 
Western Union Telegraph Company rears its lofty 
head, and from it a bewildering network of wires 
stretches away in all directions, high overhead, and look- 
ing like a gigantic spider's web drawn against the sky. 
Across the way, at the corner of Fulton street, is the 



142 NEW YORK. 

office of The Evening Post, eight or nine stones in 
heiofht, a massive structure of brick. On the same 
side, above Fulton street, is the beautiful white marble 
building of the National Park Bank, its front elaborately 
ornamented with statuary, one of the most sumptuous 
bank edifices in the city. Next door is the "Herald 
Building," also of white marble, in which is published "the 
King of American Dailies," the world-famous New York 
Herald. Opposite these two buildings, on the west 
side of Broadway, occupying the entire block from 
Fulton to Vesey streets, is St. Paul's churchyard, with 
its rows of crumbling tombstones. In it stands the 
venerable St. Paul's Church, one of the few ante-Revo- 
lutionary buildings remaining in the city. In this 
church the " Father of his country," in the early period 
of the War of Independence, heard himself denounced 
by the Royalist clergyman as a " Traitor to his King 
and his God." The square above the church is occu- 
pied by the Astor House, once the most famous hotel 
in New York, and even now, though reduced in size, 
an excellent and well-patronized establishment. Op- 
posite stands the great Post Office, running far back 
into the City Hall Park, of which it now forms the 
southern boundary. At the southern end of the Post 
Office, Broadway and Park Row come together at an 
acute angle, and the porch of the great building con- 
stitutes one of the best points from which to view the 
lower part of the former street. Nothing in the street 
life of New York is more striking than the scene be- 
fore us. " From morning till night there moves by an 
ever-changing procession of vehicles, that have poured 
into the great artery from a thousand tributaries, and 



A BROADWAY JAM. 143 

to cross Broadway, at times, at this spot, one must 
needs be a sort of animated billiard-ball, with power 
to carom from wheel to wheel until he can safely 
'pocket' his personal corporacity on the opposite walk. 
The crush of vehicles here is sometimes so great as to 
delay movement for ten minutes or more, and it re- 
quires the greatest energy on the part of the police to 
disentangle the dense, chaotic mass and set it in pro- 
gress again. For those who are not obliged to cross 
the choked-up thoroughfare, the scene is full of a brief 
amusement — hack-drivers, truckmen, omnibus drivers, 
swearing vehemently at each other, or interchanging 
all kinds of * chaff' ; passengers indignantly railing at 
the delay, and police officers yelling and waving their 
clubs in their attempts to get the machinery of travel 
again running smoothly. If, at such a time, a fire- 
engine comes rattling up the street, post-haste for the 
scene of a fire, and attempts to enforce its right of way, 
the confusion becomes doubly confounded, and the 
scene a veritable pandemonium. Ordinarily, however, 
such tangles of traffic do not occur, for this locality is 
fully supplied with policemen, whose main business is 
to facilitate the passage of travel and prevent such a 
blockade as we have described. 

"The outlook down Broadway from the Post Office 
is in all respects picturesque and impressive, and fills 
the mind with a vivid sense of the immense activity of 
New York life. In the distance the towers of Trinity 
Church and the Equitable Life Insurance Building 
lift themselves as landmarks, and noble buildings 
thickly studding the squares between the New York 
Evening Post Buildingand the Western Union Telegraph 



144 NEW YORK. 

Building, attract the eye by their massiveness and 
dignity; and directly opposite the spectator, but stand- 
ing diagonally to each other, the Astor House and 
Herald Building demand the attention, as representing 
institutions which have been household words in New 
York for the last forty years or more. Up and down 
this vista roars and streams an ocean-tide of travel and 
traffic, and the eye can find food for continual interest in 
its changing kaleidoscope. Well dressed men and 
women are brushed in the throng by beggars and 
laborers grimed with the dust of work; and grotesquely 
attired negroes with huge advertising placards strapped 
to the front and back, pace up and down, in happy 
ignorance of the inconvenience they give to others by 
taking up a double share of room. Fruit and flower 
stands offer their tempting burdens on every corner, 
and retail venders of all kinds peddle their goods, and 
add fresh discord to the din by their shrill crying of their 
wares. About six o'clock in the afternoon, however, 
the feverish activity of this region begins to abate, and 
it is not long before the appearance of the scene be- 
comes lethargic and quiet, Down town. New York has 
now begun to go to sleep, and it will not be many hours 
before the silence and emptiness will be alone re- 
lieved by the blaze of lights in the newspaper establish- 
ments of Printing House Square and the Western 
Union Telegraph Building, by the occasional tramp of 
the policeman or reporter, or the rattling of a casual 
carriage over the stony pave. This busy part of the 
city will not begin to waken again till about five o'clock 
in the morning, when the numerous street car lines 
which terminate in this vicinity commence to run their 



BROADWAY AT THE CITY HALL. 145 

cars, bringing down porters, mechanics and laborers as 
the vanguard of the great army whose tiironging bat- 
tahons will make the new day the repetition of the one 
before." 

Continuing our stroll up Broadway, we pass on our 
right the City Hall Park, the only open space In this 
section of the cit}^ Here are the City Hall and the 
new Court House, both handsome buildings, and across 
the Park looms up the tall tower of the New York 
Tribune Building, surmounted by an illuminated clock. 
On the west side of Broadway the buildings are hand- 
some, large, and generally of iron or marble. The 
upper floors are devoted mainly to offices, and here 
the lawyers congregate, because of their proximity to 
the courts. Fireproof safes, firearms, and the lighter 
articles of machinery have their headquarters here. 
At the northeast corner of Broadway and Chambers 
street is an elegant marble structure, once the w^hole- 
sale house of the great firm of A. T. Stewart & Co., 
but now devoted to other purposes. 

Above Chambers street we enter a region devoted 
mainly to wholesale dry goods and kindred establish- 
ments, such as ribbons, fancy goods, boots and shoes, 
clothing, etc., and these establishments give character 
to the street almost to Union Square. The buildings 
are large and elegant, marble and iron being chiefly 
used. Some of the iron structures are fancifully 
ornamented in gay colors, and present a pleasing con- 
trast to the long rows of solid colored edifices. Glancing 
down the cross streets we see long rows of equally 
imposing business structures, stretching away as far as 
the eye can reach, all telling of the immense amount 

10 



146 NEW YORK. 

of trade and wealth embraced In this section of the 
city. Not one of these buildings would shame Broad- 
way, and the little narrow lane, lying just west of and 
parallel with it, and known as Church street, fairly 
rivals the great thoroughfare in the splendor of its 
business edifices. 

At the corner of Leonard street is the marble build- 
ing of the New York Life Insurance Company, one of 
the finest structures ever erected by private enterprise 
in America. It is a model of taste and elegance, and 
forms one of the most imposing features of the street, 
being of pure white marble on both the Broadway and 
Leonard street fronts. Its Interior decorations and 
arrangements are magnificent. 

Canal street is now reached. This is a broad, hand- 
some thoroughfare, extending from the Bowery to the 
Hudson River, and crosses Broadway at right angles. 
It was once the bed of a stream, which has since been 
converted into a sewer. At the southwest corner stands 
the Biandreth House, a monument to the success of the 
"Patent Medicine" trade. From this point a fine view 
is had of Broadway in both directions — from Trinity 
Church on the south to Grace Church on the north. 
The eye takes in the long lines of stately buildings, the 
constantly moving throngs of pedestrians and vehicles, 
and the ear is deafened by tlie steady roar which goes 
up unceasingly from the streets, for this is one of the 
busiest parts of Broadway. 

Higher up the street, between Broome and Spring, 
is the St. Nicholas, once the most famous, and still one 
of the most thoroughly comfortable hotels of New- 
York. In the square above is Tony Pastor's Theatre; 



AMONG THE PUBLISHERS. 147 

and at the corner of Prince street, on the east side of 
Broadway, is the imposing brownstone structure of 
the MetropoHtan Hotel, in the centre of which is the 
handsome entrance to Niblo's Theatre, which Hes im- 
mediately in the rear of the hotel. Above Houston 
street, on the west side of Broadway, is the marble 
front of the Grand Central Hotel, rising to a height 
of eight stories, and surmounted by a Mansard roof — 
a monster establishment. Above this the buildings for 
several squares are not as handsome as those lower 
down the street, but improvements are being con- 
stantly made, which will soon render this portion of 
Broadway equal to anything above or below it. The 
square between Washington and Waverly Places is 
occupied by the simple but aristocratic-looking red 
brick front of the New York Hotel, one of the most 
ultra fashionable houses of the city, and the favorite 
resort of the Southerners who visit the city. Immedi- 
ately opposite is Harrigan & Hart's new theatre, the 
most attractive vaiiety show in the metropolis. A 
square above, Astor Place opens to the eastward, and 
we catch distant views of the Cooper Institute and the 
Great Bible House, with the elevated railroad rising 
beyond them. The western side of Broadway here is 
largely devoted to the book trade, several of the lead- 
ing publishing houses of the country being quartered 
in magnificent buildings, erected especially for their 
uses. At 9th street, and extending on Broadway to 
loth, and from Broadway back to Fourth avenue, is 
the immense iron structure occupied by the house of 
A. T. Stewart & Co. — probably the largest establish- 
ment of its kind in the world. Long rows of private 



148 NEW YORK. 

carriages are always standing in front of it, and an un- 
broken throng of purchasers is constantly entering and 
departing from its doors. Immediately above is Grace 
Church, a handsome edifice of white marble, with a 
pretty rectory of the same material ; and just opposite, 
at the corner of loth street and Broadway, is the fine 
building of the Methodist 'Book Concern, the street 
floor of which is occupied by one of New York's mon- 
ster dry goods stores. Here Broadway turns slightly 
toward the northwest, and pursues a straight course 
to Union Square, about a quarter of a mile distant. 
This portion of the street is handsomely built, and im- 
provements are being constantly made in it. The 
stores are mainly devoted to the retail dry goods busi- 
ness, millinery, fancy goods, and jewelry. At the 
northeast corner of 13th street is Wallack's Theatre, 
for many years the favorite place of amusement v.ath 
the dwellers in the great city. In the course of a few 
months the house will be deserted by its present occu- 
pants, and a new " Wallack's " will be opened higher 
up town. 

At 14th street, a noble thoroughfare, stretching across 
the entire island from east to west, we reach Union 
Square, a handsome park of three or four acres, which 
breaks the continuity of Broadway. This is one of the 
handsomest of the smaller parks of New York, and is 
tastefully adorned with shrubbery, statuary and foun- 
tains. We shall refer to it aeain elsewhere. Broad- 
way passes around Union Square in a northwesterly 
direction, and is lined with large and elegant buildings 
of marble and iron. At the southwest corner of 14th 
street is the splendid iron building of the Domestic 



BROADWAY AT UNION SQUARE. 149 

Sewing Machine Company. Just above 14th street 
is Brentano's News Depot, the great Hterary rendez- 
vous of New York ; and on the southwest corner of 
15th street is the famous jewelry establishment of 
Tiffany & Co., the largest of its kind in the United 
States. 

Union Square is left at i 7th street, and we pass once 
more into Broadway proper. This is the narrow- 
est portion of the great street, and plans are being 
constantly presented for widening it on the east side. 
Consequently,while the west side of the street is built up 
with magnificent structures of marble and iron, the east 
side is lined with small, unpretending buildings. The 
entire block on the w^est side, from 1 8th to 19th streets, 
is occupied by a row of magnificent marble buildings, 
used as retail dry goods and fancy goods stores. The 
19th street end is occupied by the great dry goods 
house of Arnold, Constable & Co. At the southwest 
corner of 20th street is another of these monster dry 
goods houses, a beautiful iron building, owned and 
occupied by the firm of Lord & Taylor. The show 
windows of this establishment constitute one of the 
prettiest sights of Broadway, and are filled with the 
richest and rarest goods of every description, amount- 
ing in value to thousands of dollars. In the square 
above, on the east side, is the Park Theatre, one of 
the prettiest, as regards the interior, in the city. 

At 23d street Broadway crosses the Fifth avenue, 
going obliquely to the northwest. From the south- 
v/est corner of Broadway and 23d street we obtain 
one of the finest views in the city. 23d street, one of 
the widest in the metropolis, stretches away east and 



THE FINEST VIEW IN NEW YORK. 151 

west, lined with stately buildings. On the rio-ht Is 
Madison Square, the handsomest of all the smaller 
parks, beautifully shaded with noble trees, and adorned 
with shrubbery, fountains and statuary. On the east 
side of the Square Is Madison avenue, one of the 
stateliest and most fashionable streets of the metropolis. 
The F'ifth avenue leads away to the northward, a splen- 
did mass of brownstone buildings, broken at intervals 
by numerous church spires. To the northwest Is 
Broadway, lined with superb marble edifices as far as 
the eye can reach. The throng of vehicles and pedes- 
trians Is very^ great here, coming and going in all 
directions, and all the streets which centre here pre- 
sent a gay and animated appearance, and the whole 
scene constitutes a panorama unequaled by anything 
In any of the great capitals of the Old World. 

Crossing 23d street and Fifth avenue at the same 
time, we come to the Fifth Avenue Hotel. This 
immense building occupies an entire square, from 23d 
to 24th streets, and fronts on both Fifth avenue and 
Broadway. It Is built of white marble, and is six stories 
In height. The block from 24th to 25th streets is occu- 
pied by the Albemarle and Hoffman Houses, in the 
order named. Both are of white marble. Immediately 
opposite, at the intersection of Broadway and Fifth 
avenue, is a handsome eranlte monument, erected to 
the memory of General W. J. Worth, a gallant soldier 
of the Seminole and Mexican wars. Facino- this Is the 
New York Club House, a tasteful red brick building, 
fronting on Broadway and Fifth avenue. Above this, 
and also frontlno- on both streets, is the famous restau- 

<_> 

rant of Delmonlco. At the southwest corner of 26th 



152 NEW YORK. 

Street stands the St. James Hotel, also of white marble; 
and just across the way is the Victoria Hotel, formerly- 
known as the Stevens House. It is an immense pile 
of red brick, with light stone trimmings, and is five 
stories high, with a Mansard roof containing three 
stories more. It was the first of the monster "Apart- 
ment Houses" erected in New York, and was built by 
the late Paran Stevens. On the northwest corner of 
27th street is the Coleman House, and at the southeast 
corner of 29th street is the Sturtevant House. On 
the opposite corner of 29th street, also on the east side 
of Broadway, is the Gilsey House, one of the most 
magnificent hotel edifices in the city. It is built of iron, 
is highly ornamented, and is painted white. Diagonally 
opposite, on the west side of Broadway, is Daly's 
Broadway Theatre, formerly known as Wood's Museum. 
At the southeast corner of 30th street rises Wallack's 
New Theatre, one of the most perfectly appointed and 
beautiful establishments of its kind in New York. 
Immediately above this is the marble building of the 
Grand Hotel. On 3 2d street, between Broadway and 
Sixth avenue, is the superb marble structure of the 
Union Dime Savings Bank, facing northward. 

At 34th street Broadway crosses the Sixth avenue 
obliquely, still pursuing its northwesterly course. 
Above this point the street is poorly built up. At 42d 
street are two handsome hotels, the Rossmore, on the 
southwest corner, and the St. Cloud, on the southeast 
corner, immediately opposite. Continuing its north- 
westerly course, Broadway crosses the Seventh avenue 
at 44th street. This portion of the street is sparsely 
built, and is uninteresting until the neighborhood of the 



NIGHT SCENES ON BROADWAY. 153 

Park is reached, where immense blocks of "Apartment 
Houses" Hne it on both sides. 

Below 14th street there are no street railways on 
Broadway. From Union Square to the Central Park 
there is a single horse-car line, which passes into Univer- 
sity Place and thence southward below 14th street. 
From Union Square to the lower end of the street 
Broadway is traversed by several lines of stages, which 
monopolize the street traffic in this section. On all 
portions of the street the travel, as we have stated, is 
very great. It is estimated that at least 20,000 vehicles 
traverse Broadway ever}^ twenty-four hours. All day 
the roar and the rush are continuous, and the scene is 
brilliant and attractive. In the morning the throng 
pours down town, and in the afternoon the tide changes, 
and flows back northward to the upper portions of the 
city. 

As night comes on, the lower portion of Broadway 
begins to be deserted. But few persons are to be 
seen on the sidewalks, and the omnibuses and car- 
riages have the roadway to themselves. By eight 
o'clock Broadway below Canal street is almost de- 
serted, save in the immediate neighborhood of the Post 
Office. Gradually this region becomes silent also, and 
below Union Square but little of interest is to be seen. 
The true night-life of Broadway is to be witnessed 
chiefly between 23d and 34th streets. From Union 
Square to 34th street the great thoroughfare is ablaze 
with the electric light, which illumines it with the ra- 
diance of day. Crowds throng the sidewalks ; the 
lights of the omnibuses and carriages dart to and 
fro along the roadway like myriads of fire-flies ; the 



;J^54 NEW YORK. 

great hotels, the theatres and restaurants, send out 
their blaze of gas-lamps, and are alive with visitors. 
The crowd is out for pleasure at night, and many and 
varied are the forms which the pursuit of it takes. 
Here is a family— father, mother, and children— out 
for a stroll to see the sights they have witnessed a 
hundred times, and which nev^r grow dull ; there is a 
party of theatre-goers, bent on an evening of innocent 
amusement; here is a ''gang of roughs," swaggering 
along the sidewalk and jostling all who come within 
their'^way; here a party of young bloods, out for a 
lark, are drawing upon themselves the keen glances 
of the stalwart policeman, as he slowly follows in their 
rear. All sorts of people are out, and the scene is en- 
livening beyond description. Moving rapidly through 
the throng, sometimes in couples, sometimes alone, 
and glancing swiftly and keenly at the men they pass, 
are t number of flashily-dressed women, generally 
young, but far from attractive. You would never mis- 
take them for respectable women, and they do not in- 
tend that you shall. They do not dare to stop and 
converse with men on the street, for the eyes of the 
police are upon them, and such a proceeding would be 
met with a sharp order to " move on." These are the 
"Street Walkers," one of the most degraded sections 
of the "Lost Sisterhood." The men of the city shun 
them, and their prey is the stranger. Should they suc- 
ceed in attracting the attention of a vicdm, they dart 
off down the first side street, and wait for their dupes 
to join them. Woe to the man who follows after one 
of these creatures. The next step is to some of the 
low dives which still occupy too many of the cellars 



THE FASHIONABLE SHOPPING QUARTER. 155 

along Broadway. Here bad or drugged liquors steal 
away the senses of the luckless victim, and robbery, or 
even worse violence, too often ends the adventure. 
These women have gone so far down into the depths 
of sin, that they scruple at nothing which will bring 
them money. 

The throng fills the street until a late hour of the 
night. Then the theatres pour out their audiences to 
join it, and for an hour or more the restaurants and 
cafes are filled to their utmost capacity. Then, as 
midnight comes on, the street becomes quieter and 
more deserted. The lights in the buildings are extin- 
guished, and gradually upper Broadway becomes silent 
and deserted. New York has gone to bed ; and 
Broadway enjoys a rest^of a few hours, only to begin 
at daybreak a repetition of the scenes of the previous 
day. 

The upper part of Broadway constitutes, as we have 
said, the fashionable shopping quarter of New York. 
Here are the finest stores, the richest and most tempt- 
ing display of goods. New Yorkers prefer to shop 
here, for they know that Broadway prices are no 
higher than those charged in other sections, while the 
stock of goods to choose from is larger and better. 
You pay here only what an article is worth, and no 
more, and you can rely upon the representations of the 
employees in the leading houses as truthful. Yet it 
must not be understood that all the Broadway mer- 
chants are models of honesty and fair dealing. The 
street reflects the good and the bad qualities of New 
York, and there are many establishments along its 
length where the purchaser must use his wits and keep 



\^Q NEW YORK. 

his eyes open. The greatest scoundrels deal right 
alongside of the most reputable merchants. In one 
thino- onlydoes Broadway maintain a uniform standard. 
It represents the cheerfulness and success of the great 
city. No struggling merchants are seen along its miles 
of palaces of trade, and failure has no place in the 
street. Successful men alone deal here, no matter by 
what methods the success has been won. Poverty is 
banished to the back streets, and Broadway glitters in 
the sunshine of prosperity. 



THE STAGE ROUTES. 157 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE BROADWAY STAGES. 

POPULARITY OF THIS MODE OP CONVEYANCE — A CHEAP PLEASURE — DESCRIPTION OF THE VARI- 
OUS LINES — THE STAGES AS REGARDS COMFORT — THE OUTSIDE SEATS — "KNOCKING DOWN 
IN BY-GONE days" — THE PATENT CASH BOX SYSTEM — THE " SPOTTERS " — A NIGHT RIDE 
WITH JEHU— THE " BOSS " ON THE WATCH — MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS — SKILL OF THE STAGE 
DRIVERS — A STAGE DRIVER PHOTOGRAPHED — SUFFERINGS OF THE DRIVERS — UPS AND DOWNS 
OF THE CRAFT — THE MUTUAL BENEFIT ASSOCIATION. 

In spite of the success of the elevated railways, 
and of the large number of passengers carried by the 
street car lines, the stages or omnibuses still manage 
to hold their own. Until a year or two ago the fare on 
all the lines was ten cents, but since the completion of 
the elevated railways it has been reduced to five cents. 
The low fares and the fact that, except for a short 
distance on upper Broadway, the stages pursue routes 
free from the presence and competition of the street cars, 
enable them still to command a very large share of the 
street travel of the city. In Broadway, below Union 
Square, and in Fifth and Madison avenues, they are 
the sole dependence of those who wish to ride cheaply 
along those thoroughfares. The principal lines now 
are as follows: — 

The Broadway and Fifth Avenue, starting from the 
Fulton Ferry, oh the East River, passing up Fulton 
street to Broadway, along which it continues to 23d 
street, where it enters Fifth avenue, and follows that 
thoroughfare as far as the Windsor Hotel. 

The Broadway, Twenty-third Street and Ninth 
Avemie, running along Broadway from the South 



158 NEW YORK. 

Ferry to 23d street, thence along that street to Ninth 
avenue, and up that avenue to 30th street. 

The Madison Avenue Line, running from the Wall 
street ferry on the East River, up Wall street to Broad- 
way, thence to Madison avenue at 23d street, and up 
that avenue to 42d street. 

The stages are clumsy, uncomfortable vehicles, 
inconvenient to enter, fatio-uino- to ride in, and dano;er- 
ous to leave. They are neither as commodious nor 
as comfortable as those of the great European cities, 
and unlike them, have no seats on top. There is room 
on the driver's, seat for two passengers, one on each 
side of him, but to reach these one must be expert at 
climbing. They are, by far, the best places from which 
to view the street, and if the driver is inclined to be 
talkative, many a pleasant half hour may be spent in 
chatting with him. 

Uncomfortable as they are, the stages are an insti- 
tution of New York, and are liberally patronized. One 
reason of this is that they constitute, as has been stated, 
the only means of cheap travel on the streets they 
frequent ; and another Is that from them one can enjoy 
one of the best views of Broadway and the magnificent 
avenues, with their wonderful slo-hts, for the insio-nlfi- 
cant sum of half a dime — certainly one of the cheapest 
as well as one of the most genuine pleasures the city 
affords. 

In former days the driver of a stage was furnished 
with a cash-box, which was securely fastened to the roof 
of the coach, at his left hand. All the money received 
passed through his hands, and he had frequent oppor- 
tunities of " knocking down," or appropriating a modest 



KNUCKING DOWN. 159 

sum to his own use. This led him to be very zealous 
in picking up passengers, for the larger the receipts 
the greater his chance of " knocking down " without 
detection. It was in those days a well-established fact 
that those who were the most skillful in helping them- 
selves always made the largest returns to the office. 

Now, however, each coach is provided with the 
Slawson patent cash-box, which is placed inside, at the 
front end of the vehicle. As he starts on his rounds 
the driver is furnished with little envelopes containing 
various sums, ranging from ten cents to two dollars. 
Each envelope contains a stage ticket and the balance 
of the amount, whatever it may be, in money. Passen- 
gers entering the coach, if they have the amount in 
change, deposit it in the Slawson box, which is so placed 
that the driver can see whether the correct fare is paid or 
not. If change is desired, the money is handed to the 
driver through a hole in the roof in the rear of his seat, 
and he returns an envelope containing a ticket and the 
remainder of the sum Qriven him in change. The ticket 
is then deposited in the cash box by the passenger. As 
he must return the envelopes given him at starting, or 
their equivalent in money, the driver has no opportun- 
ity of "knocking down." His only opportunity for 
practicing the old game lies in the fares paid him by 
the outside riders, wdio cannot make use of the cash box. 
This has its risks, however, for he is closely watched, 
and the number of " outsiders " is carefully counted by 
" spotters " or spies placed along the route by the pro- 
prietor. Sometimes the "boss " takes this office upon 
himself, to the great disgust of the driver. 

One night, not long since, a Fifth avenue stage was 



]^(30 NEW YORK. 

passing the Fifth avenue Hotel, on its downward trip. 
Among the passengers was an outsider, who sat on the 
driver's right, enjoying the beautiful panorama of the 
lighted streets, and chatting socially with the knight of 
the whip. As they came opposite the great hotel, with 
its blaze of gas and electric lights, the driver turned 
suddenly to his companion, and exclaimed: — 

" Do you see that old duffer with a slouched hat — 
that one just sneaking out of sight? He's my boss. 
If I was worth as much as he is, I wouldn't stand 
around all night watching stages," 
"How much is he worth?" 
" 'Bout four million." 
"Who is he?" 

"He? Why, he's old Andrews, who runs the whole 
outfit. Thought everybody knew him. We know him. 
He runs seventy 'busses on this Hne and scoops in 
three'r four hundred a day, clean money. He's been 
offered's high's $200,000 cash for the line, but he 
wouldn't have it." 

"What keeps him around here at night?" 
"Just'er see that we don't 'knock down' the fares of 
passengers on top. We have to make a special return 
on the last trip for all top fares. The old chap hangs 
around to catch the boys." 

just then an up-town stage of the same line was 
passed. There was a mysterious interchange of sig- 
nals between the two drivers. The upward bound had 
been warned by the downward bound that the "boss" 

was on duty. 

"Sometimes," continued the driver, in his slow, 
scornful way, "he's there by the Fifth Avenue, where 



THE " BOSS ON THE WATCH. IGl 

you saw him; next trip he'll be down to Bleecker 
street; maybe he'll jump in and ride a few blocks. 
He's a sly one. He thinks more of a cent with a hole 
in it than I do of a good dinner. He hangs around 
every night till one o'clock, when the last 'bus goes up. 
He's got an awful grip on his gold, but some day some- 
body'll have his money to spend." The thought of it 
gave an extra snap to the whip, 

"He does look pretty old, that's a fact." 

"Don't you worry about his dying off-hand. His 
father is alive now, up in Delaware county. No, sir; 
if I had his stamps 1 wouldn't hang around nights to 
catch a five-cent fare. When he finds a driver short a 
fare he docks him fifty cents." 

"How do the receipts now compare with the ten- 
cent days?" 

"We do more than double the business. A staee 
averages ^3 more a day since they cut down to five 
cents. We used to take in ^6 or ^7, and now we count 
on from 1^9 to $11." 

It requires the nicest skill to drive a stage on Broad- 
way. Not only must the driver guide his ponderous 
vehicle safely through the crowded mass, but his quick 
eye must be all over the street, on the watch for pas- 
sengers, and he must be ready to stop to take up or 
let them down at any moment, and in such a manner 
as will not block the already crowded street. The ease 
and accuracy with which a stage will dart through a 
crowd of Broadway vehicles, never colliding with or 
in any way touching them, shows that Jehu has a firm 
hand and a quick eye. 

The stage drivers constitute a distinct and peculiar 



1G2 NEW YORK. 

class. Their work Is hard, their pay small, and they 
show signs of the hard lives they lead. From six 
o'clock in the morning until midnight they are coming 
and going, in all weathers and in all seasons — Sunday, 
on which day the stages do not run, being their only 
time of rest. They are generally middle-aged men, 
and some are far advanced in years. They are corpu- 
lent, heavy-limbed, and large-handed men, with faces 
seasoned by the weather, to which they are constantly 
exposed; and when on their feet, walk with an un- 
steady, rolling gait, caused by their being so constantly 
on the box. They have no distinct dress, and get 
themselves up according to their own fancies ; and it 
must be confessed, that while their costumes may be 
artistic, they are not neat or attractive. The odor of 
the horse-blanket clings to them always. The ma- 
jority of them have driven their routes for years, and 
have witnessed all the changes along them for tlie past 
twenty-five or thirty years. Some have been on the 
lines longer, and have seen their routes gradually 
lengthen, year by year, as the city has grown north- 
ward. They can tell you many an interesting tale of 
the streets through which you pass, for the local his- 
tories of these thoroughfares are as household words to 
them. With strangers they are silent and uncommu- 
nicative, but an offer of a chew of tobacco or a cigar 
will unseal their lips, and they grow eloquent over the 
hard life they lead, and will impart to you more inter- 
estincr Information concernlnor the localities throucrh 

o & o 

which you are passing than you can obtain from any 
other source. They are masters of the science of 
" chaffing," and the eloquence with which they assail 



LIFE OF A STAGE DRIVER. 163 

drivers of rival lines is sublime in its way. They suf- 
fer greatly from exposure to the weather. In the hot 
days of summer they protect themselves from the fierce 
rays of the sun by large cotton umbrellas, securely 
fastened to the roof of the vehicle ; but it is no uncom- 
mon thing for them to fall victims to sunstroke. In 
the winter, when the snow and sleet swirl about him, 
and lash his face and head with their pitiless fury, the 
driver wraps his lower limbs in a mass of blankets, 
and protects the rest of his body with a succession of 
overcoats. His sufferings, in spite of these precau- 
tions, are often terrible, and his first care, upon arriv- 
ing at the end of his route, is to hurry to the nearest 
saloon and comfort himself with a tumblerful of hot 
whisky or gin. Who shall blame him? Without this, 
even his iron constitution would be powerless to with- 
stand the terrible exposure to which he is subjected. 
Oftentimes the horses will dragf the coach into the 
stable in the midst of some wild winter storm, while 
the driver sits motionless on his box. The stable men 
lift him down, to find him frozen almost stiff Yet, in 
spite of its hardships, the life has a fascination for Jehu. 
Once a stage driver, always a stage driver, is the motto 
of the craft, and it would be a powerful inducement, 
indeed, that could cause him to surrender the reins 
that he has handled so long, and betake himself to 
some other mode of life. He fears two things only — 
the loss of his place on the box and falling into the 
hands of the stalwart policemen who guard the most 
crowded portions of Broadway. He submits in humble 
silence to the reprimands, and meekly and promptly 
obeys the orders, of these stern guardians of the street, 



164 NEW YORK. 

for well he knows that trouble with "the cops" means 
a month for him on "the Island," and probably a per- 
manent loss of place. The latter would be ruin to 
him. He has no other resource, is fit for no other em- 
ployment. His beggarly wages do not allow him to 
lay up any money, and he knows he must stick to his 
box as long as he can. Fortunately his iron constitu- 
tion enables him to hold his place far on into old age, 
and, as a general rule, he leaves it only for the long 
rest in which wagfes can avail him nothingf. 

The stage drivers have a Mutual Benefit Association, 
which looks after them when they are sick or disabled. 
They are generally a healthy set, and do not find it 
necessary to call on the Association often. 



THE CENTRE OF FASHION. 105 



CHAPTER X. 

THE FIFTH AVENUE. 

riFTH AVENUE THK CENTRE OF FASHION AND WEALTH— DESCRIPTION OF THE STREET— A 
GRAND PANORAMA— LOWER FIFTH AVENUE— ENCROACHMENTS OF BUSINESS— FOURTEEN rH 
STREET— THE " SWALLOW-TAIL" DEMOCRACY- AMONG THE PIANO MAKERS — CHICKERINc; 
HALL— CHURCHES— CLUBS AND ART GALLERIES— TWENTY-THIRD STREET— DELMONICO S— 
THE ASTOR RESIDENCES— STEWART'S MARBLE PALACE — A REGION OF BROWN STONE— UPI'EK 
FIFTH AVENUE — THE HOTELS — THE CATHEDRAL — THE VANDERBILT MANSIONS— ALONG 
THE CENTRAL PARK— THE LENOX LIBRARY — THE FIFTH AVENUE MANSIONS — HOMES OH 

WEALTH AND LUXURY — HOW THEY ARE FITTED UP — FIFTH AVENUE ON NEW YEAr's NIGHT 

LIFE IN FIFTH AVENUE — THE WHIRL OF DISSIPATION— WHAT IT COSTS — THE STRUGGLE FOR 
SHOW — THE " NEWLY RICH " — DARK SIDE OF FIFTH AVENUE LIFE — THE SKELETONS— FIFTH 
AVENUE HUSBANDS AND WIVES — THE CHILDREN — " ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GUTTERS." 

Fifth avenue is the fashionable street, par excellence, 
of New York. It commences at Washington Square 
and extends to the Harlem river, a distance of nearly 
six miles, and is a broad, well-paved, and superbly built 
street for the first three miles of its course. To live 
and die in a Fifth avenue mansion is the dearest wish 
of every New Yorker's heart. Though the lower 
squares are being rapidly encroached upon by business 
edifices, the street as a whole maintains its character as 
the most magnificent avenue of residences in the world. 
The buildings alone its course are mainly of brown- 
stone, though in the upper section, near the Central 
Park, marble and the ligrhter-colored stones are being 
used with pleasing effect. 

The avenue begins at Waverly Place, the northern 
boundary of Washington Square, and runs in a straight 
line to 59th street, the southern boundary of die Cen- 
tral Park, after which it skirts the eastern side of the 
Park to 1 1 oth street. At 120th street its continuity 



166 NEW YORK. 

is broken by Mount Morris Park, around which 
it passes, and commences again at 124th street, 
and pursues an unbroken line to the Harlem river. 
From Washington Square to the Central Park, a dis- 
tance of three miles, it is built up solidly, with magnifi- 
cent residences, splendid hotels and imposing churches. 
From 59th street, along the eastern side, it is being built 
up rapidly, and before many years have elapsed this 
section will be an unbroken line of buildings. It will be 
a very pleasant section, too, for the western boundary 
of the street will be the open expanse of the Central 
Park, and the occupants of the houses will have before 
them one of the loveliest landscapes in 'the world, as a 
source of perpetual enjoyment. From the upper end 
of the park to Mount Morris there are, as yet, no im- 
provements. Passing Mount Morris and entering the 
Harlem section of the avenue, we find it rapidly grow- 
ing, the houses here being equal in splendor to those 
below or opposite the park. 

Starting on our tour of inspection from Washington 
Square, we find the first blocks of the avenue occupied 
by stately, old-fashioned mansions, and shaded by fine 
trees. At the corner of Clinton Place is the Brevoort 
House, one of the most exclusive hostelries of the 
city, and largely patronized by English visitors. At 
the northwest corner of loth street is the Episcopal 
Church of the Ascension, a handsome brownstone struc- 
ture, and on the southwest corner of nth street is the 
P'irst Presbyterian Church, equally handsome, and also 
of brownstone. Fourteenth street is a busy, bustling, 
thoroughfare at its intersection with the avenue, and 
here are a number of fashionable "Apartment Houses," 



LOWER FIFTH AVENUE. 1G7 

which form quite a feature of the avenue. Here the 
electric lamps begin, and extend along- Fifth avenue to 
34th street. At the southwest corner of 15th street is 
the splendid building of the Manhattan Club. This is 
the headquarters of what is known in New York as 
"the Swallow Tail Democracy," and the club consists 
of the better elements of the Democratic party. Busi- 
ness is largely invading this section of the avenue ; and 
here are the warerooms of the most famous piano 
makers, such as Chickering, Weber and Knabe. The 
Chickerings have a magnificent hall attached to their 
establishment, which is used for concerts, lectures, and 
other entertainments. It stands on the northwest cor- 
ner of rSth street. At the southeast corner of 19th 
street is the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church, for- 
merly in charge of the Rev. Dr. John Hall. At the 
southwest corner of 21st street is the South Reformed 
Dutch Church, a beautiful edifice of brownstone. On the 
opposite side of 21st street is the Union Club, generally 
known as " The Rich Man's Club," since it embraces a 
greater aggregate of wealth among its members than 
any club in the city. Across the avenue is the Lotus 
Club, the chief rendezvous of the art and literary pro- 
fessions. On the southwest corner of 2 2d street is 
Knoedler's Art Gallery, a branch of the famous estab- 
lishment of Goupil & Co., of Paris. It is always open 
to visitors, and is filled with an interesting collection of 
works of art. There is no pleasanter place in New 
York in which to pass an idle hour. 

At 23d street. Fifth avenue crosses Broadway, and 
passing along the western side of Madison Square pur- 
sues its northward course. On the left is the Fifth 



168 NEW YORK. 

Avenue Hotel, with the magnificent vista of Broadway- 
extending beyond it, and on the right is Madison 
Square, with its fine trees and noble statues. The 
Worth Monument, already described, is passed on the 
left, and at the corner of 25th street is the New York 
Club, beyond which is"Delmonico's," extending through 
the block to Broadway. At the southeast corner of 
27th street stands the Victoria Hotel, while immedi- 
ately opposite, occupying the entire block on the east 
side of the avenue, from 26th to 27th streets, is the 
Hotel Brunswick, well known for its splendid restaur- 
ant and high prices. Business is encroaching upon this 
portion of the avenue, and bids fair to monopolize it in 
a few years. At the northwest corner of 29th street is 
a handsome church of white granite, belonging to the 
Dutch Reformed faith. Its tall spire is surmounted by 
a gilt-wreathed vane in the shape of a game chicken, 
and this has caused irreverent New York to dub the 
edifice " the Church of the Holy Rooster." The block on 
the west side of the avenue, between 33d and 34th 
streets, is occupied by two stately brick mansions, one 
at each corner. These are the residences of John Jacob 
and William Astor, sons of the late William B. Astor. 
At the northwest corner of 34th street stands the mar- 
ble palace of the late A. T. Stewart, now the residence 
of his widow. Its interior decorations and arrange- 
ments are sumptuous, and in keeping with the exterior. 
At the time of its erection it was regarded as the most 
magnificent in the New World. On the opposite cor- 
ner is a noble brownstone mansion, for many years 
the residence of Mr. Stewart. " We are now in a re- 
gion of an unbroken line of architectural beauty; hand- 



A REGION OF BROWN STONE. 169 

some churches and mansions abound, and the wonderful 
changes that are taking place in the upper portion of 
New York are written on every side. Superb mansions 
are continually being pulled down to make way for 
structures still more palatial, and the rage for surpass- 
ing each other in the splendor of their domiciles seems 
to have taken possession of our merchants, bankers 
and railroad princes." The window fronts in this section 
of the avenue present a pretty sight during the sum- 
mer months, when they are "decorated with tiled flower 
boxes, laden with a perfect glory of blooms in all the 
colors of the rainbow. This is a charming charac- 
teristic of the leading residence streets in the aristo- 
cratic portion of the city, and speaks volumes for the 
taste and love of beauty inherent even among those 
who may have made their money so suddenly as to be 
without the social and aesthetic culture which makes 
wealth the most enjoyable. Fifth avenue is exception- 
ally noticeable for this lavish display of flowers on the 
window ledges, that seem to be literally blossoming 
out of the brown stone a little distance away." 

At the northwest corner of 35th street is a plain 
dwelling of brick, with light stone trimmings. This 
was the residence of the late William B. Astor, and 
here he died, a few years ago. Immediately across the 
avenue is Christ (Episcopal) Church, and on the north- 
west corner of 37th street is the Brick (Presbyterian) 
Church, for so many years under the pastoral care of 
the Rev. Dr. Gardiner Spring. At the northeast cor- 
ner of 39th street is the new building of the Union 
League Club, a palatial structure, and the most per- 
fectly-appointed club-house in America, The west side 



l^Q NEW YORK. 

of the avenue, from 40th to 42d street, Is occupied by 
the old Distributing Reservoir, a massive, fortress-hke 
structure, of stone, from the summit of which a fine 
view of the noble thoroughfare may be enjoyed. Im- 
mediately opposite is Rutger's College, a handsome 
castellated structure in the Gothic style. The north- 
west corner of 42d street Is occupied by "The Flor- 
ence," the finest specimen of the palatial "Apartment 
House" In the city, and a noticeable feature of the 
avenue. The northeast corner of 43d street is occu- 
pied by the superb Jewish Temple E-manu-el, and 
diagonally opposite, on the southwest corner of 45th 
street, is the Church of the Divine Paternity, of which 
the late Dr. E. W. Chapin was for many years the 
pastor. Nearly opposite, between 45th and 46th 
streets. Is the pretty Church of the Heavenly .Rest. 
On the east side of the avenue, occupying the block 
from 47th to 48th streets, Is the massive red-brick 
front of the Windsor Hotel, one of the most elegant 
and cosdy houses in the city. Opposite, on the north- 
west corner of 48th street, Is the Collegiate Dutch Re- 
formed Church, an elaborate structure of brown stone. 
At the southeast corner of 50th street is " The Buck- 
ingham," a fashionable hotel, built upon the principle 
that "land is cheap up stairs." The block above, from 
50th to 51st street. Is taken up by the magnificent 
Cathedral of St. Patrick. This is, in all respects, the 
most superb church in America. It Is built, within and 
without, of pure white marble, and occupies the most 
commanding position on the avenue. The next block, 
on the east side, from 51st to 5 2d, Is occupied by the 
Roman Catholic Male Orphan Asylum and its grounds- 



UPPER FIFTH AVENUE. 171 

The block on the west side of the avenue, immediately 
opposite the Asylum, contains two superb mansions of 
brown stone, connected by a covered gallery, into 
which the main entrance leads. On the northwest 
corner of 5 2d street is another elegant and artistic 
mansion, of light gray stone, elaborately ornamented. 
These are the famous Vanderbilt mansions, and con- 
stitute the finest residences in New York. At the 
northwest corner of 53d street is the massive brown- 
stone Church of St. Thomas (Episcopal), one of the 
noblest church edifices on the continent. Between 
54th and 55th streets, on the same side of the avenue, 
is St. Luke's (Episcopal) Hospital, standing in the 
midst of handsomely ornamented grounds. On the 
northwest corner of 55th street is another of the grand 
churches of New York. It is built of brown stone, 
with a lofty spire, and belongs to the Presbyterian 
faith. It is under the pastoral care of the Rev. Dr. 
John Hall, one of the most eloquent divines of the day. 
At the northwest corner of 57th street is a large man- 
sion of red brick, with gray stone trimmings, the prop- 
erty of another member of the Vanderbilt family. A 
row of fine houses, of white marble, occupies the block 
on the east sidei, from 57th to 58th streets. 

At 59th street the avenue reaches the Central Park. 
It is handsomely built along the east side of the street 
for a considerable distance, and new houses are con- 
stantly going up. There is nothing of special interest 
to be seen, however, until 70th street is reached. Here 
stands the Lenox Library, a massive building of 
granite. From this point to the Harlem River the 
street is without interest apart from its handsome resi- 
dences. 



THE FIFTH AVENUE PALACES. 173 

The principal material used in the construction of the 
buildings on the avenue is brown stone. This gives to 
the street a sombre look, but of late years, white mar- 
ble, brick, and the lighter-colored stones have been 
used to a great extent, and the upper portion of the 
avenue presents a much lighter and more attractive 
appearance than the regions below it. In spite of the 
general uniformity of the street, however, it is a grand 
sight upon which the eye rests from any point of view. 

The interior of the houses is in keeping with their 
external grandeur. They are decorated in magnificent 
style by artists of ability and taste, and are furnished 
in the most superb and costly manner. Rare and 
valuable works of art abound in all, and everything that 
luxury can devise or wealth provide is here in abund- 
ance. The softest and richest carpets cover the floors 
and deaden every foot fall, the windows are draped 
with curtains the cost of which would provide an 
average family with a home in othercities, and which shut 
out the bright daylight and give to the apartments a 
soft, luxurious glow; costly chandeliers shed a flood of 
warm light through the elegantly furnished rooms, and 
through the half open doors you may catch a view of 
the library, with its rows of daintily bound books in 
elaborate cases, its works of art scattered about in 
tasteful nesflisfence, and its rich and cosy furniture. 
The "Library" forms quite a feature in a Fifth avenue 
mansion. Whether the books are read or not, it is the 
correct thing to have. The chambers and upper rooms 
are furnished with equal magnificence, the cost of fitting 
up one of these houses sometimes exceeding the 
amount paid for the building. Everything is perfect in its 



174 NEW YORK. 

way, each appointment being the most sumptuous that 
wealth can purchase. Some of these mansions are 
furnished with rare taste and good judgment, but 
many, on the other hand, are simply vast collections of 
flashy and costly furniture and decorations, their own- 
ers lacking the culture necessary to make a proper dis- 
position of their riches. There is no more attractive 
sight to the stranger in New York than a stroll along 
Fifth avenue about dusk on New Year's Day. It is the 
custom of those who receive calls on that day to leave 
window curtains partly drawn, and through these open- 
ings one can see the richly furnished, brightly lighted 
drawing rooms, with their elegantly dressed occupants, 
and can thus enjoy a succession of "pictures from life" 
unequaled in any part of the world. 

The dwellers in the Fifth avenue mansions represent 
all the various phases of the wealthier class of New 
York. You will find here many persons whose fortunes 
are so secure and great that they can amply afford the 
style in which they live ; and also many who are sacri- 
ficing everything in order to shine for awhile in such 
splendor. Men make money very quickly in New 
York. A Fifth avenue mansion is eithef purchased or 
rented, and then commences a life of fashion and dis- 
sipation to which neither they nor their families are 
accustomed. Everything is sacrificed to maintain their 
newly gained position ; money flows like water ; the 
recently gotten wealth vanishes, and in a few years 
the family disappears from the avenue, to begin life 
anew in an humbler sphere. The history of the street 
abounds in such cases. No wonder so many men liv- 
ing in these palaces have weary, careworn faces, rest- 



THE DWELLERS ON FIFTH AVENUE. 175 

less glances, and quick, nervous ways. The strain they 
are living under to keep their places in the avenue is 
too great. They are not able to keep pace with those 
whose firmly-secured millions justify them in a lavish 
style of living, and they know it. They dread the day 
that must inevitably come, when they must leave all 
this luxury behind them and go out into the world 
again to begin life anew. Even if they maintain their 
places, they cannot resist the conviction that their splen- 
dor has been bought at too dear a price. 

The avenue mansions contain many families of wealth 
and culture, many whose names have been household 
words in New York for generations. These live elegantly, 
and in proportion to their means, but avoid show and 
vulgar display. They are courtly in manner, hospit- 
able and warm-hearted, and constitute fine specimens 
of the cultured American. They do not make up the 
majority of the dwellers in the avenue, however. These 
latter represent mainly the newly rich families, that 
have risen to affluence through the lucky ventures ot 
the husband and father, and have come to their new 
honors without the refinement or culture necessary to 
sustain them with dignity. You may know them by 
their loud voices, vulgar countenances, flashy dressing, 
and coarse ways. They plunge headlong into the dis- 
sipations of society with a recklessness unknown to 
persons accustomed to such pleasures, and their fast 
life soon tells upon them. The men go to their busi- 
ness heavy and jaded in the morning, after a night of 
fashionable dissipation, and the women sink into an 
indolence from which nothing can rouse them save a 
renewal of the excesses which caused their lassitude. 



176 NEW YORK. 

They greatly err who Imagine that the possessor of 
a Fifth avenue mansion is, as a matter of course, to be 
envied. These splendid palaces hide many aching 
hearts, and could tell many a tale of sorrow, and even 
of shame, could they speak. The master of the house 
goes often to his business in the morning with knit 
brows and a tragedy lurking in his heart, and returns 
with reluctant steps to his splendid palace in the even- 
ing ; and madame, for all her gorgeous surroundings, 
fails to wear a happy or contented look, and sighs as 
she thinks of the price she has paid for such luxury. 
Generally the skeleton is kept securely within the 
closet, but sometimes it will break forth, and then 
Fifth avenue is startled for a moment by its revelations. 
Sometimes the scandal is hushed up, but frequently the 
divorce courts are called in to straighten matters out. 

One does not see home life in its truest sense in the 
avenue. The demands of fashion are too exacting to 
permit an indulgence in this richest of pleasures. Day 
and night are spent in a ceaseless whirl of gayety, and 
in many cases the only times husband and wife are 
really in their home for more than a (ew hours at a 
time, is when their parlors are crowded with guests in 
attendance upon some grand entertainment given by 
them. Thus it happens that they lead different lives, 
with but little common interest between them. The 
husband has his "affinity," and seeks in her society the 
pleasures his wife will not share with him ; and madame 
has her "lovers," who are as much of a grief as a happi- 
ness to her, as she lives in constant terror of being 
compromised. Fortunately, children are scarce in the 
avenue ; the necessities of fashion forbid large families. 



FIFTH AVENUE CHILDREN. 177 

Such as come receive little of a mother's care until they 
are old enough to be put on exhibition, to accompany 
"mamma" in a drive through the Park, or to occupy 
the front seats of the opera-box, when they should be 
soundly sleeping in their beds. They are dressed to 
death, are always in charge of a maid when out for a 
walk, and know little of the pure, free joys of child- 
hood. So they grow up to be premature men and 
women, fitted only to imitate the follies, and, alas, too 
often to repeat the bitter experience of their parents. 

After all, in spite of its splendor, in spite of its wealth, 
and its mad round of pleasures. Fifth avenue does not 
hold the happiest homes in New York. You can see 
the orlare and the elitter of the false metal all around 
you ; but if you would find the pure gold of domestic 
happiness, you must seek it in more modest sections 
of the great city. 



J^78 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XL 

THE ELEVATED RAILROADS. 

JNCONVENIENCES OF OLD.STV^E TRAVEI.-PI.ANS FOR RAPID TKANS,T-THE FIEST ELEVATED 
RAILROAD-THE PRESENT SVSTEM-THE METROPOLITAN AND NEW YORK ELEVATED ROADS- 
THE MANHATTAN COMPANY-DESCRIPTION OP THE ROADS-HOW THEY ARE BUILT-MODE OP 
OPERATIONS-STATIONS-EMPLOYEES-RAPID TRAINS-ADVANTAGES OF THE SYSTEM-ITS 
DRAWBACKS-IMMENSE TRAFFIC-RESULTS OF THE ELEVATED SYSTEM-RAPID GROWTH OF 
THE UPPER PART OF THE CITY-A RIDE ON THE ELEVATED RAILROADS-THE NIGHT TRAINS 
FROM THE BATTERY TO HARLEM BY NIGHT. 

The peculiar conformation of Manhattan Island ren- 
dered it impossible for New York to grow but in one 

direction from south to north. As the lower portions 

of the city were taken for business purposes, the popu- 
lation moved northward. In the course of time this 
state of affairs came about: the majority of the dwellers 
in the city had their places of business down town, at 
a distance of several miles from their residences. To 
reach the former in the morning, and return to the lat- 
ter in the afternoon, they were dependent upon the 
horse-cars and stages. These trips consumed a great 
deal of time, and imposed upon the people an immense 
amount of fatigue. Early in the morning and late in 
the evening the cars and stages were crowded, so that 
often the entire journey had to be made standing ; the 
vehicles were dirty and badly ventilated, and every 
discomfort was encountered. During heavy snows. 
hours would be sometimes consumed in making the 
journey, and at all times street blockades caused the 
loss of much valuable time. Altogether, the whole 
system of street travel was badly arranged, uncom- 



THE FIRST ELEVATED RAILROAD. 179 

fortable, and entirely unsuited to the needs of a city 
like New York. 

This led to many plans for " rapid transit ;" that is, 
for a system of roads running the length of the city, 
and operated by steam, which should shorten the time 
between given points and increase the comforts of the 
traveler. At first these plans were for underground 
roads, but they were rejected almost as fast as pro- 
posed, as it was found that they would cost several 
million dollars per mile, and require a generation 
for their construction. After various other plans had 
been proposed, a company was chartered and began 
the construction of an elevated railroad on Green- 
wich street and Ninth avenue, from the Battery to the 
Central Park. It was proposed to operate the road 
by means of an endless wire rope, worked by station- 
ary engines at stated points along the line. This 
proved a failure, however; the endless ropes would not 
work, and the stationary engines had to be abandoned. 
The road was then strengthened, dummy engines 
placed on it, and about 1870 it was opened for travel. 
After experiencing various changes of fortune it passed 
into the hands of the New York Elevated Railroad 
Company, and has since been rebuilt and strength- 
ened. It now forms a part of the western division of 
the New York Elevated Railroad. 

The next project was the Metropolitan Elevated 
Railroad, to run from Rector and New Church streets, 
by College Place, West Broadway, Soudi Fifth avenue, 
Amity street and Sixth avenue to the Central Park. 
This scheme encountered a great deal of opposition 
from property holders along the route, but this was at 



180 NEW YORK. 

last overcome, the road was built, and was opened for 
travel about three years ago. ^ 

At present there are four lines of Elevated Roads 
in successful operation in New York. These are the 
Sixth and Second avenue lines, belonging to the Metro- 
politan Elevated Railroad Company; and the Third and 
Ninth avenue lines, belonging to the New York Eleva- 
ted Railroad Company. They all run frorn south to 
north, in the direction of the length of the city. Both 
of the above named companies have leased their lines 
to the Manhattan Elevated Railroad Company, and all 
the lines are thus consolidated under one management. 

The Metropolitan Elevated Road begins at Rector 
street, in the rear of Trinity Church, and pursues the 
following route: Along New Church, Church and Mur- 
ray streets to College Place, thence to West Broadway, 
to South Fifth avenue,, which it follows to Amity street, 
along Amity street to Sixth avenue, and along Sixth 
avenue to 59th street and the Central Park, At 53d 
street a branch leads off to Ninth avenue, along which 
the line is carried to i loth street, where it crosses to 
Eighth avenue, and continues along that street to the 
Harlem River at 1 55th street. Here a bridge over the 
river enables the road to connect with the "New York 
City and Northern Road," for High Bridge, Fordham, 
and other points on the mainland. The latter road 
will eventually be carried through to Yonkers and Tar- 
rytown, and will thus form, with the Elevated Road, a 
direct route from the lower part of New York to the 
pleasantest points on the Hudson River. 

The Metropolitan Road occupies the centre of the 
streets it traverses, and is built in the most substantial 



THE METROPOLITAN ELEVATKD RAILROAD. 181 

manner, combining both lightness and solidity. The 
foundations for the supports are laid in concrete, stone, 
and brick work. Four long rods pass up through the 
heavy foundation stones, and around these is built up 
the brick work, inclining gradually inward from the base 
to the top. The rods extend several inches above the 
brickwork, and fit into holes at the four corners of die 
heavy iron castings, in which are the sockets for the 
recepdon of the supporting columns. These castings 
are secured to the rods by means of screw nuts. The 
columns, light in appearance, are calculated to bear 
a strain more than double that to which they are sub- 
jected, so that the margin of safety is large. Stout iron 
girders are laid across the street from column to col- 
umn, and these are joined and strengthened by stays 
and beams of iron running in every direction. Above 
this is built the road bed, also of iron, firmly fastened 
together and strengthened in every possible manner, 
and on this is laid the road, consisting of a double track 
of steel rails. The whole structure forms a sort of 
arcade in the middle of the street, above the tracks of 
the horse railways. It seems a light and graceful 
affair, and, when viewed from below, appears scarcely 
capable of sustaining the immense strain put upon it. 
As a general rule the roadway is on a level with the 
second-story windows of the houses by which it passes. 
At 1 1 oth street, however, it reaches the height of sixty- 
three feet, and presents one of the most audacious and 
skillful specimens of engineering to be found on the 
globe. It makes a gigantic curve here, from Ninth to 
Eighth avenue, and from the street the trains passing 
over it seem to be running In mid air. Even the cool- 



1^2 ^'^^^ YORK. 

est person cannot resist a feeling of nervousness in 
passing over this portion of the road for the first time. 
Massive as it is, the structure seems too hght for its pur- 
poses ; but it stands firm and unshaken, and trains rattle 
over it daily with scarcely a jar. 

The stations along the route are of iron, and are 
painted a light and dainty green. They are fitted up 
in elegant style, and are provided with every conveni- 
ence for passengers and the employees of the road. 
They were designed by the celebrated landscape 
artist, J. F. Cropsey, and are tasteful cottages, provided 
with ticket offices, waiting rooms for gentlemen and 
ladies, and toilet conveniences for each. They are 
lighted with gas, as are also the platforms, and in winter 
are heated. The platforms extend beyond the stadon 
houses at each end, and are covered with a light and 
graceful iron pavilion roof. The stations are reached 
from the street by light iron stairways enclosed at the 
side and roofed over. The up stadons are on the east 
side of the streets, and the down stations on the west 
side. Passengers purchase their dckets at the ofiice on 
entering the station, and drop them in a patent box m 
charge "of an attendant upon passing out on the plat- 
form. 

The equipment of the road is excellent. The cars 
are built after the style of the Pullman palace cars. 
The seats have spring cushions, and are placed two by 
two in the centre of the car at each side of the passage- 
way; at the ends they are ranged longitudinally around 
the car, thus affording ample space near the doors for 
the Incrress and egress of passengers. The windows 
are unusually large, are of plate glass, and are provided 



EQUIPMENT OF THE METROPOLITAN LINE. 183 

with adjustable rep blinds. The cars are painted a 
delicate shade of green, and are among- the handsomest 
to be found on any road in the Union. The platforms 
are enclosed with iron balustrades, with gates at the 
sides. The locomotives used are small and of a pecu- 
liar construction. They make an average speed of 
twelve miles an hour, including stoppages. All trains 
are provided with air-brakes, and can be stopped in a 
little more than their own length. The road is operated 
by means of electric signals, and every precaution for 
safety is taken. 

The conductors and brakemen are handsomely 
uniformed, as are also the attendants at the stations. 
They are dressed in blue flannel or cloth, with orna- 
mental braidings on the shoulders, brass buttons on the 
coat and vest, and cap encircled with two gold cords 
and marked with silver letters in front above the peak, 
with the title, "conductor," "brakeman," etc. They 
have an air of extreme importance, and hustle passen- 
gers on and off the trains with a haste that amounts to 
recklessness, and which has, in more than one instance, 
led to serious accidents. It Is said that many of the 
employees of this company were appointed for political 
reasons, and have had but little experience as railroad 
men. 

The Second avenue line is owned by the Metropoli- 
tan Company, and is built in a manner similar to the 
Sixth avenue road. Its trains start from the South 
Ferry, and run through Pearl and Fulton streets and 
Franklin Square to Chatham Square, the junction of 
the Third avenue line ; thence through Division street 
to First avenue, along that avenue to 23d street, 



184 NEW YORK. 

through 23d street west to Second avenue, and along 
that street to the Harlem river. It is proposed to 
bridge the river at this point and extend the road into 
Westchester county. Passengers by this line are 
transferred to the Third avenue line at Chatham Square 
without extra charge. In its equipment and manage- 
ment it is similar to the Sixth avenue line. 

The Ninth Avenue Line is owned by the New York 
Elevated Railroad Company, It is built on columns 
of iron set in concrete and masonry along the outer 
edge of the sidewalk on each side of the streets it 
traverses. These columns are connected by stout iron 
girders, and the structure, although so light in appear- 
ance, is as solid and firm as could be desired. It begins 
at the South Ferry, and runs across the Battery Park 
to Greenwich street, along which it continues to 14th 
street, where it enters Ninth avenue, and follows the 
line of that street to .59th street, where it joins the 
extension of the Metropolitan Road. Passengers going 
above 59th street are transferred to the Metropolitan 
cars without extra charge. The road runs, as has been 
said, alone the sidewalks on each side of the street, the 
middle of the street being thus unobstructed. The 
cars of this line are painted a handsome brown color, 
very much like those of the Pennsylvania Road, and 
though neatly upholstered and decorated are not as 
ornamental as those of the Sixth avenue line. 

The Third avenue line is also owned by the New 
York Elevated Railroad Company. It commences at 
the City Hall, immediately opposite to the stone cause- 
way of the Brooklyn Bridge, and runs direct to Chat- 
ham Square, and thence by the Bowery and Third 



THE THIRD AVENUE LINE. 185 

avenue to the Harlem River at 129th street. At 42d 
street a branch diverges westward to the Grand Cen- 
tral Depot. It is built on rows of pillars, like the Ninth 
avenue road, and varies according to the character of 
the street in which it is located. The Bowery being 
wide the tracks are carried on separate pillars on each 
side of the street; while on Third avenue they are 
erected upon lines of columns at each side of the street 
car tracks, and connected at the top by light, open 
elliptic arch girders. 

The cars on this line resemble those of the Ninth 
avenue road. The officials are uniformed like those 
of the Sixth avenue line, and are, as a rule, more effi- 
cient men. The New York Elevated made it its busi- 
ness at the outset to secure men who were thoroughly 
accustomed to railroading, and vvho knew their duties. 
The stations on the Ninth and Third Avenue lines are 
alike in design. They are smaller than those of the 
Sixth Avenue line, but are very handsome, are con- 
structed of ornamental iron, and are reached from the 
street by stairways. 

From five o'clock until seven in the morning, and 
during the same hours of the evening, the fare on all 
the lines is five cents; at all other times it is ten cents. 

There is no pleasanter way of seeing New York 
than from the elevated railways. The following trip, 
which may be made within three hours, will show the 
visitor more of the great city than can be seen in two 
days by any other means: Take the Third avenue 
line at the City Hall and ride to 1 30th street — the Har- 
lem river. It is but a step from the station to the land- 
ing of the East river steamers. Embark on one of 



X86 NEW YORK. 

these and ride to the end of the route, at Peck Slip, 
near the Fukon Ferry, on the East river. The sail 
down the river is superb. A short walk along South 
street, from Peck Slip, brings the traveler to the ter- 
minus' of the West Side Elevated Road at the South 
Ferry. Take the Ninth avenue line here and ride to 
155th street. Return by the Sixth avenue line, and 
ride to the terminus at Rector street. This leaves out 
the Second avenue line, but the Third avenue road 
commands very much the same view, and nothing of 
importance is lost. 

The elevated roads have been of the greatest ser- 
vice to New York, in spite of the complaints that they 
have injured property along their lines. The question of 
damage is still an open one, but there can be no doubt 
that the problem of rapid transit has been effectually 
and quickly solved. Travelers are independent now 
of the weather. The trains run on time and with ease 
in the heaviest snow storms, blockades are impossible, 
and time is saved and comfort secured to the passen- 
ger. In good weath jr and with a clear track the horse- 
cars took from three-quarters of an hour to fifty min- 
utes from 59th street to the City Hall. The elevated 
trains make the same distance now in twenty-eight 
minutes, including stoppages. The Metropolitan Road 
runs over 1000 trains a day, and the New York Ele- 
vated about 900, making between 1900 and 2000 in all. 
An averao-e train on either road in the busy hours will 
carry 350 passengers on the round trip. 

Great complaints were made at first of the noise 
made by the trains passing over the roads, but these 
are not so numerous now as formerly. The peculiar 



OVERCROWDING OF TRAINS. 187 

construction of the New York Elevated Company's 
lines renders them less noisy than those of the Metro- 
politan Company. The posts of the latter roads are 
hollow tubes of boiler-iron, and each possesses the re- 
sonant qualities of a drum. On the New York Com- 
pany's roads the posts are open ones, two sides of each 
being made of stout lattice- work, and give forth less 
sound. 

Durinof the five-cent hours the trains on all the lines 
are crowded, the seats, aisles, and even the platforms 
being filled to their fullest capacity. The station plat- 
forms are black with a struo^ohna- crowd, each indivl- 
dual of which is striving with all his powers to be the 
first on the train when it arrives. At such times the 
jam is dangerous. The seats are usually occupied be- 
fore the train leaves the end of the line, and the throngs 
who wait at the way stations rush on board only to find 
standing room, and sometimes hardly that. Passengers 
leaving the trains at such stations have literally to fight 
their way out of the cars, and the stop is so brief that they 
are often carried one or two stations beyond their desti- 
nation before they can reach the platform of the car. The 
conductors crowd as many into a car as can be packed 
into it during these hours, and the air soon becomes foul, 
and the danger of contracting contagious or infectious 
diseases, from being jammed in too closely with all sorts 
of people, is very great. Trains often start while pas- 
sengers are in the act of getting on board, and men are 
frequendy dragged some distance before they can be 
rescued from their perilous positions. The dense 
throngs on the narrow platforms of the stations afford 
a rich harvest for pickpockets, and a free field for bul- 



188 NEW YORK. 

lies and ruffians, When the platforms are so heavily 
crowded there is actual danger of being pushed over into 
the street, or under the wheels of the approaching trains. 
The over-crowded trains which run so frequently dur- 
ing the five-cent, or "commission " hours, are exceed- 
ingly liable to accident. Engines not infrequently be- 
come disabled, causing the train to stop, and at such 
times there is danger of one of the rear trains crashing 
into the disabled one. Should the breaks of the rear 
train give way such a disaster would be inevitable. 
Several accidents have occurred, and serious collisions 
have taken place. It is urged that a reduction of the 
fare to five cents at all hours would remedy the trouble, 
and that such crowds would not collect for the early 
and late trains if the fare were the same at all hours. 

Such are some of the drawbacks to the system; but 
it cannot be denied that these roads are, on the whole, 
a great gain for the city. The upper sections of the 
Island being brought within rapid and easy reach of the 
business quarters are attracting large numbers of 
inhabitants, and property is rapidly appreciating in 
value above and along the Central Park. Many per- 
sons who were forced to live in Brooklyn or some other 
suburb, are returning to the city, and taking houses in 
Harlem and the neighboring localities, and it is confi- 
dently expected that a few years will see a vast change 
for the better in this section of the city — thanks to the 
facilities offered by the Elevated Roads. In the first 
place the city will push its grand streets and its rows 
of substantial dwellings rapidly northward until the 
Park is surrounded with a tolerably dense population. 
In a few years the fine country seats on the west side, 



INFLUENCE OF ELEVATED ROADS. 189 

as far up as Washington Heights, will have to give 
place to solid blocks of brick and brovvnstone, because 
the land will become too valuable to be used for lawns 
and gardens, and by the end of the century those who 
are now living may expect to see the whole of the 
upper part of Manhattan Island as closely built over 
as are now the districts immediately below the Park. 
Of course this rapid increase will not proceed from the 
ordinary process of a city's growth. Thousands of 
people who have taken refuge in the suburban towns 
to secure cheap rents and to avoid the miseries of street 
car travel, will return to New York. It will be a great 
deal more comfortable to step into a train a few blocks 
from the City Hall and be whirled in half an hour up 
to looth street, than to walk to a ferry, wait five or 
ten minutes for a boat, submit to the jostling crowds, 
and occasionally miss a train on the other side of the 
river. Added to the inducements to draw people from 
the suburbs back to the city will be the facility for 
attending evening amusements, for hearing good Sun- 
day sermons, and for getting easy access to the many 
attractions that the denizen of the Metropolis can 
enjoy, if he will, in his leisure hours. Already the 
Elevated Roads are beginning to affect the tenement 
houses, and many of the dwellers in these vast rooker- 
ies have moved up to Harlem and its vicinity, where 
they can obtain endre houses for a little more than the 
price paid for a few rooms in their former habitadons. 
To the stranger the Elevated Roads offer a pleasure 
not to be experienced in any other city. You mount 
the stairway to the station, purchase your ticket, 
deposit it in the box at the gate, and take your place 



190 NEW YORK. 

on the platform to await the arrival of the train. Here 
it comes, puffing and snorting, and draws up to the 
station as leisurely and quietly as if there was no hurry 
about the performance. You step on board, and find 
yourself in a handsome, airy, and comfortable car. 
Then follows a ride which will be always remembered. 
You whirl alone the streets on a level with the sec- 
ond stories of the houses, and looking down can enjoy 
all the sights in the roadway and on the sidewalk 
below. Underneath you the horse cars pass and repass, 
and you hear the pleasant jingle of bells. The grand 
panorama of the streets traversed spreads out before 
you; distant views of the rivers and their shipping are 
caught, and at last you reach your destination, feeling 
that you have had an experience to be remembered. 
You have enjoyed New York's latest wonder; you 
have made a trip on the Elevated Railroad. 

The Third avenue line runs its trains all night. 
They start from each end of the road every fifteen 
minutes, from midnight to a quarter of five in the morn- 
ing. These are "the Owl Trains," and carry home the 
late workers in the great newspaper offices, belated 
travelers, and the "b'hoys" who have been making a 
night of it. Let us take the trip on one of these trains 
in company with a reporter of the JVew York Herald, 
starting from the South Ferry an hour after midnight. 

"Puff! Puff! On we go, slowly at first, over the tangle 
of switches, and then as the gleaming track stretches 
out before, we gain headway, and go rushing into the 
shadow of the silent tenements and the deserted work 
shops of down town. A couple of passengers join us 
at Fulton street, three more at Hanover Square, and 



A RIDE ON THE ELEVATED ROAD 191 

then we sweep along toward the east side thoroLKdi- 
fare, where the flare of light before us shows that the 
denizens are still astir. We are rattling past the odd 
clusters of houses that swarm down to the river's edo-e 
— oddly enough they look in the darkness — these 
human hives crowded together in so many uncouth 
shapes, with a stray light struggling through the panes, 
and the lines of the narrow streets broken and almost 
lost among them. On past this region of dark abodes, 
from which even now the sound of a street broil reaches 
us, and then there is a rattle of switches as we sweep 
about the curve into the light and find ourselves 
at Chatham Square. A group of passengers come 
aboard here, and there is a show of activity in the sta- 
tion. Doubtless there is a certain animation imparted 
to it by the sounds of life, loud enough and sufficiently 
varied for the broadest kind of day, that float up to it 
without ceasing from the Bowery beneath. There is 
nothing in this glare of light, nothing in this swarming 
pavement, to indicate that midnight has passed. The 
windows gleam, the saloons are all aglare, a half-score 
pianos and violins send as many airs floating into the 
nio-ht to blend into an instrumental discord that attunes 
itself fitly to the roysterer's song, the brawler's oath and 
the hundred strange voices of the night. We go on 
now over all these, with the ratde of the wheels drown- 
ing the noise, and only the darkened and apparendy 
deserted stories of the houses on a level with our eyes. 
It seems as though we were driving over a troubled 
sea, but in an atmosphere becalmed. 

"Grand street and then Houston are reached. We 
receive few accessions at either. 



-j^92 NEW YORK. 

"The vehicle that will reduce the lateness of arrival 
by some minutes, and depreciate by a correspondmg 
percentao-e the rancor of the waiting wife or the observ- 
ant mother-in-law, is a boon sure to be appreciated. 
This sentiment received free expression at the hands 
of a professor-like body in the car, who, alone of all 
the passengers, opened communication with his fellow 
men and who himself seemed a trifle anxions to 
brino- his latch key into speedy communication with the 

front door. 

"In fact, most of the passengers seemed very impas- 
sive and preoccupied. Several of them were conspic- 
uously so, and the trip up town was quite uneventful 
until the advent of the ubiquitous small boy. He was 
a crood specimen of the class— spry, saucy and mis- 
chfevous. He was projected into our midst from the 
Houston street station, at which he flung a parting 
comment on some one's freshness. For a time he edified 
us by performing a sort of double-shuflle in one end 
of the car, and then fell into conversation with the pro- 
fessor-like person, to whom he confided that he was "a 
mechanic in a feather foundry," together with much 
other valuable and equally reliable information. A few 
popular airs, rather discordantly whistled, and an active 
passage at words with the brakeman. made up the sum 
of the small boy's entertainment, when, in a charitable 
efibrt to close the gate on the conductor's fingers, he 
retired at 68th street. 

"We were now well up town, and running between 
the rows of flats and tenements on either side the street. 
Here all was repose. Closed shutters, draped windows. 



VIEWS FROM THE "OWL TRAINS." 193 

darkened rooms — everywhere a recognition of the 
hours of slumber. Only the street lamps beneath, and 
only- a semi-occasional by-passer. Here the din of 
the cars seems louder than before, and strangely at 
variance with the dead silence of the slumbering home- 
steads. The pace of the engine seems quickest now, 
and as we leave 86th street a sudden belt of darkness 
is thrown upon the windows. We have passed from 
the tenanted portions of the avenue and are flying 
across the Harlem flats. How dim, how gloomy they 
lie in this moonless night. A medley here of roofs and 
gables; there the flash of a whitewashed wall all clown in 
the hollow, with only a fitful glimmer in some window- 
pane. Even the street lamps gleaming by the w'ay look 
dim, and the twinkle of the lights of Astoria, away across 
the water, are distant and uncertain. Suddenly a great 
yellow eye opens down towards the river and glows 
like a full moon in the darkness. It is the clock on the 
Second avenue railroad depot, which we are whirling 
past. Only that sign of life in all the dark landscape, 
from the line of the river to the sky on the other side, 
where the hills and trees of Central Park stretch like 
an undulating belt. Yet we are o-oincr over scores of 
little homesteads instinct with life. And at such a pace! 
The train seems to fairly spin along. One thinks, go- 
ing through the air at this rate, of the phantom hunts- 
man of the Hartz tearing over the hamlets and forest 
lands, and the witches of old whirling across the sky 
astride their broomsticks. But when one comes back 
to the prosaic, cosy seats of the elevated road, he feels 
that he has a much more substantial and comfortable 



13 



2^94 NEW YORK. 

conveyance than the phantom steed, and one which has 
many points of superiority over the witches' favorite 

vehicle. 

" I o6th street! We are going into Harlem. We 
have dropped all our passengers but two. Naturally, 
in these high local latitudes we take on no more. We 
keep the pace for a time from station to station, th^n 
'down brakes' is whistled, we slow up and come roll- 
ing up to the end of the route in dignified fashion. 
There are a good many people at the station as we 
reach it, and while the engine waits others arrive. 
About double as many passengers board the train to 
go down as came up." 



NEW YORK SOCIETY. 195 



CHAPTER XII. 

SOCIETY. 

THE VARIOUS CLASSES OF SOCIETY— THE BEST OF ALL— THE "OLD KNICKERBOCKERS"— A HEAVV 
SET OF SWELLS — RICHES AND CULTURE COMBINED — THE NEWLY RICH — THE CONTROLLING 
ELEMENT — HOW SHODDY GETS INTO SOCIETY — THE POWER OF MONEY — FASHIONABLE SNOB- 
BERY — FROM THE TENEMENT HOUSE TO THE FIFTH AVENUE MANSION — MANIA FOR COATS 
OF ARMS— HOW BOSS TWEED WAS VICTIMIZED — SUDDEN APPEARANCES AND DISAPPEAR- 
ANCES IN SOCIETY — " RICHES HAVE WINGS " — A FAILURE AND A TRIUMPH — WHAT IT COSTS 

MONEY THE ONE THING NEEDFUL — EXTRAVAGANCE OF NEW YORK SOCIETY — LOVE OF DRESS 
—A FASHIONABLE LADY's WARDROBE— FOLLIES OF THE MEN— PASSION FOR THE LEG ETJSl- 
NESS— FASHIONABLE ENTERTAINMENTS— THE END OF EXTRAVAGANT CAREERS— THE SKELE- 
TONS SOMETIMES COME OUT OF THEIR CLOSETS— FASHIONABLE BALLS AND PARTIES— HOW 
THEY ARE GIVEN— INVITATIONS— BALL ROOM SCENES— THE SUPPERS— A SWELL CONVERSATION 
—FASHIONABLE THIEVES— AN ARISTOCRATIC SNEAK THIEF— HOW A BROKER KEPT HIS PLACE 
IN SOCIETY— A detective's EXPERIENCE IN FASHIONABLE LIFE— THE PRETTY VIIDOVJ AND 
THE LACES— FASHIONABLE RECEPTIONS— WEDDINGS IN HIGH LIFE— ARRANGED ON A PECU- 
NIARY BASIS— MONEY THE ATTRACTION— HOW HEARTS ARE BOUGHT AND SOLD— THE WED- 
DING FESTIVITIES— GUARDING THE BRIDAL PRESENTS— WHAT IT ALL COSTS— FASH lONAELE 
DEATH— ONLY THE RICH CAN AFFORD TO DIE IN NEW VORK— COST OF A FASHIONABLE 
FUNERAL — INTERESTING DETAILS. 

I. 

CONSTITUENT PARTS, 

Society in New York is made up of many parts, a 
few of which we propose to examine. 

The first class is unfortunately the smallest, and con- 
sists of those who set culture and personal refinement 
above riches. It is made up of professional men and 
their families — lawyers, clergymen, artists, authors, 
physicians, scientific men, and others of kindred pur- 
suits and tastes. Compared with the other classes, it 
is not wealthy, though many of its members manage 
to attain competency and ease. Their homes are taste- 
ful, and often elegant, and the household graces are 
cultivated in preference to display. The tone of this 



-j^9G NEW YORK. 

class is pure, healthful and vigorous, and personal 
merit is the surest passport to it. It furnishes the best 
specimens of manhood and womanhood to be met with 
in the metropolis, and its home-life is simple and at- 
tractive. In short, it may be said to be the savmg 
element of the society of the metropolis, and fortunately 
it is a o-rowing element, drawing to it every year new 
members, not only from the city itself, but from all 
parts of the country. It is this class which gives tone 
to the moral and religious life of the city, which supports 
the lectures, concerts, orations and scientific entertain- 
ments which form so pleasant a feature of city life, and 
it is seen in force at Wallack's and other leading thea- 
tres on the first night of some new play. Its members 
are generally sufficiently well-off in this world's goods 
to render them independent of the forms to which 
others are slaves. Travel and observation, added to 
natural abilides, enable them to estimate persons and 
things at their true value, and they maintain their posi- 
tions without caring to imitate or enter into competition 
with their wealthier neighbors. They are always ready 
to recognize and lend a helping hand to struggling 
merit, but sternly discountenance vulgarity and impos- 
ture. They furnish the men and women who do the 
best work and accomplish the greatest results in social 
and business life, and their names are honored through- 
out the city. 

The next class is composed of the descendants of the 
original Dutch settlers of New York, and style 
themselves "the Old Knickerbockers." They are 
clannish, and cling together, looking down with a 
lofty contempt upon all who cannot show a Dutch 



OLD KNICKERBOCKERS. 197 

ancestor, or produce a long line of family por- 
traits as proof of their descent. Many of these people 
are highly educated, refined, and would be a credit to 
any society, were It not for, their ridiculous affectation of 
superiority • to their neighbors. This affectation of 
superiority often exposes them to unmerciful ridicule, 
but they bear it with true Dutch phlegm. Each one 
has his coat of arms, and all seem to rely more upon 
their descent from the hard-headed old Dutchmen of 
New Amsterdam than upon their own merits. You 
could not insult them more deeply than to intimate that 
the venerable mynheer from whom they boast descent 
was, in the palmy days of New Amsterdam, a butcher, 
a fish vender, or a tanner down in the swamp, and 
knew little of and cared less for stately escutcheons and 
armorial bearings. Many of the members of this class 
are large real estate owners, their property being 
among the most valuable in the city. The little farm 
of the Dutch ancestor is now a succession of valuable 
building lots, and instead of bearing cabbages and 
onions is covered with stately edifices, and has enriched 
the descendants far beyond the " ancestor's " wildest 
dreams. They are a heavy and solemn class, these 
"Old Knickerbockers," even the very young ones. 
They are not overburdened with brains, as a rule, and 
try to atone for this deficiency by assuming the most 
pompous and heavy bearing. Many, perhaps a 
majority, of this class are undoubtedly what they claim 
to be as regards descent, but it must be confessed that 
there are those among them whose names are not to be 
found in the lists of the people of New Amsterdam. 
No matter, they have wealth, they affect the Dutch 



198 NEW YORK. 

Style, have a "Van " to their names, and somehow have 
a Une of old, yellow "family portraits" to show, and it 
pressed for their pedigree, is there not a "college of 
heraldry" in the city to make one for them? 

The third class consists of those who ha^e inherited 
laro-e wealth from one or more generations of ances- 
tors, but who make no claim to aristocratic descent. 
They are generally people of culture, with nothing of 
shoddyism or snobbery about them. They have traveled 
extensively, and are free from the narrow provincial 
ideas that characterize so many of the New York "Upper 
Ten." Their houses are filled with valuable works of 
art and mementoes of foreign travel. Having an 
abundance of leisure, they are free to cultivate the 
graces of life, and they constitute one of the pleasant- 
est portions of the society of the city. The class is not 
large, but it is constandy receiving new members in the 
children of men who have made their way in the world, 
and have learned to value money at its true worth. 
They make good citizens, with the exception of an easy 
going indifference to political affairs, are proud of their 
city and country, and do not ape the airs or customs of 
foreign lands. 

The fourth and largest class, that which may be said 
to give New York fashionable society its peculiar tone, 
consists of the "Newly Rich." These are so numer- 
ous, and make themselves so conspicuous, that they are 
naturally regarded as the representative class of New 
York society. They may be known by their coarse 
appearances, and still coarser manners, their loud style, 
and ostentatious display of wealth. Money with them 
is everything, and they judge men, not by their merits, 



FIFTH AVENUE TRANSFORMATIONS. 199 

but by their bank accounts. They arc strangers to the 
refinements and "small, sweet courtesies" of life, and for 
them substitute a hauteur and a dash that lay them 
open to unmerciful ridicule. Without education or pol- 
ish, they look down upon those who are less fortunate 
than themselves, and fawn with cringing- servility upon 
the more aristocratic portion of society. To be invited 
to an entertainment of some family of solid repute in 
the fashionable world, to be on visiting terms with those 
whose wealth and culture rank them as the true aris- 
tocracy, is the height of their ambition. This they 
generally accomplish, for money is a passport to all 
classes of New York society. The better elements 
may laugh at the " Newly Rich," but they invite them 
to their houses, entertain them, are entertained in re- 
turn, and so do their share in keeping "Shoddy" firm 
in its position in the avenue. The "Newly Rich" 
know the power of their money, and they use it ac- 
cordingly. The wealthy Mr. McGinnis, uncouth as he 
is, unrefined as his family are, can give handsomer and 
more costly entertainments, and in mere matters of 
richness and display, can far outshine the aristocratic 
Mr. Van Bomp, whose ancestors run back to the days 
of the Half Moon and New Amsterdam. So Mr. Van 
Bomp, meeting McGinnis in society, learns to put up 
with his rough ways, though he may laugh at them in 
private, exchanges hospitalities with him, and in many 
ways helps the new rich man up the social ladder, and 
the dream of McGinnis' life is realized. 

The " Newly Rich" look down with supreme con- 
tempt upon the institutions which have enabled them 
to rise so hieh in the social scale. It is from them one 



200 NEW YORK. 

hears so many complaints of the degeneracy of society, 
and it is they whose frowns chill the ambitious hopes 
of rising merit. Lacking personal dignity themselves, 
they ridicule it in others. They are ashamed of their 
orio^in, and it is a mortal offence to one of these new- 
fledged fashionables to remind him that you knew him 
a few years back as a hard-working mechanic or shop- 
keeper. His better-half may have been a dressmaker, 
a shop-girl, or have risen from some humbler position 
in life ; but that is all forgotten now, and it would be 
not only bad taste, but a mortal offence, to refer to it. 
Some strange changes of names are brought about by 
a translation to the upper circles. Plain John Smith 
becomes John Smythe, and perhaps, Smyythe. Sam 
Long, who began life by driving a dray, is now Mr. 
Samuel Longue ; Mc'Ginnis becomes MacGuennesse. 
A coat of arms suddenly makes its appearance, for the 
establishment in the city which deals in such matters is 
equal to any emergency, and oftentimes a pedigree is 
manufactured in the same way. As for family por- 
traits, " Sypher's," or any of the old curiosity or bric- 
a-brac stores, can provide any number of these. Some 
years ago, when the late Boss Tweed was at the height 
of his power, he thought his new dignity required a 
coat of arms, which was duly engraved upon his silver 
and emblazoned on the panels of his equipages. It 
was a superb design, and tickled the Boss immensely; 
but his joy was cut short when he found that the 
" Herald's College " had bestowed upon him the ar- 
morial bearings of the Marquis of Tweedale. one of 
England's proudest peers. Of course there was a 
broad laugh throughout the city at the honorable Wil- 
liam's expense. 



SUDDEN CHANGES IN SOCIETY. 201 

Some of the fashionables appear very suddenly in 
society. For the better part of their lives they have 
lived very modestly, perhaps in a tenement house. A 
series of fortunate speculations in Wall street, or in 
other branches of commerce places the husband 
speedily in possession of great wealth. The family is 
ambitious, and it has now the one thing necessary to 
enable it to shine in New York society. A mansion in 
Fifth or Madison avenue, or one of the aristocratic cross 
streets intersecting those thoroughfares, is secured; the 
newly acquired wealth is liberally expended in fitting up 
the new home ; and then the fortunate owners of it sud- 
denly burst upon society as stars of the first magnitude. 
They are ill adapted to their new position it is true, rude 
and unrefined, but they have wealth and are willing to 
spend it, and money is supposed to carry with it all the 
virtues and graces of fashionable life. This is all 
society requires, and it receives them with open arms, 
flatters and courts them, and exalts them to the seventh 
heaven of fashionable bliss. 

Lucky are they who can manage to retain the posi- 
tions thus acquired. It too often happens that this 
suddenly gotten wealth goes as rapidly as it came. 
Then the stars begin to pale, and finally the family 
drops out of the fashionable world. It is not missed, 
however; new stars take their places, perhaps to share 
the same fate. Thus this class of society is not perma- 
nent as regards its members. It is constantly chang- 
ing. People come and go, and the leaders of one 
season may be conspicuous the next only by their 
absence. 

Sometimes even this class of society takes a notion 



202 NEW YORK. 

to be exclusive, and then It is hard to enter the charmed 
circle. Some years ago a gentleman, a man of brains 
and sterling merit, who had risen slowly to fortune, 
feeling himself in every way fitted for social distinction, 
resolved to enter society, and to signalize his entree by 
a errand entertainment. At that time he lived in a not 
very fashionable street, but he did not regard this as a 
drawback. He issued his invitations, and prepared his 
entertainment upon a scale of unusual magnificence, 
and at the appointed time his mansion was ablaze with 
light, and ready for the guests. Great was his morti- 
fication. Not one of those invited set foot within his 
doors. In his anger he swore a mighty oath that he 
would yet compel New York society to humble itself 
to him. He kept his word, became one of the wealthiest 
men in the city, indeed, one of the merchant princes of 
the land, and in the course of a few years society, which 
had scorned his first invitations, was begging for admis- 
sion to his sumptuous fetes. He became a leader of 
society, and his mandates were humbly obeyed by those 
who had once presumed to look down upon him. It 
was a characteristic triumph; his millions did the work. 

II. 

WHAT IT COSTS. 

Poverty is always a misfortune. New York brands 
it as a crime. Consequently no poor man, or even one 
of moderate means, can hold a place in New York 
society. Indeed, it would be simply impossible for any 
one not possessed of great wealth to maintain a posi- 
tion there, as to do this requires an almost fabulous 
outlay of money. As money opens the doors of the 
charmed circle, so money must keep one within it, 



FASHIONABLE EXTRAVAGANCE. 203 

Thus society in New York has become the most 
extravagant in the world. Nowhere on the globe are 
such immense sums spent. Extravagance is the beset- 
ting sin of Metropolitan social life. Immense sums are 
expended annually in furnishing the aristocratic man- 
sions, in dress, in entertainments, and in all sorts of 
folly and dissipation. It is no uncommon thing for a 
house and its contents to be heavily mortgaged to pro- 
vide the means of keeping its occupants in proper 
style. The pawnbrokers drive a thriving trade with 
the ladies of position, who pledge jewels, costly drapes, 
and other articles of feminine luxury, to raise the money 
needed for some " high-toned " folly. Each member 
of society strives to outshine or outdress his or her 
acquaintances, and to do so requires a continual struo-- 
gle, and a continual drain upon the bank account. Men 
have been led to madness and suicide, and women to 
sin and shame, by this constant race for social distinc- 
tion; but the mad round of extravagance and folly goes 
on, the new comers failing to profit by the experience 
of those who have gone before them. 

The love of dress is a characteristic of the New York 
woman of fashion. To be the best dressed woman at 
a ball, the opera, a dinner, or on the street, is the height 
of her ambition. To outshine all other women in the 
splendor of her attire or her jewels, is to render her 
s-upremely happy. Dresses are ordered without regard 
to cost, and other articles of luxury are purchased in 
proportion. Nowhere in the world are seen such 
splendidly draped, such gorgeously bejeweled women 
as in New York. A recent writer, touching upon this 
topic says: — 



204 NEW YORK. 

"It is impossible to estimate the number of dresses a 
fashionable woman will have. Most women in society' 
can afford to dress as it pleases them, since they have 
unlimited amounts of money at their disposal. Among 
females, dress is the principal part of socjet}'. What 
would Madame Mountain be without her laces or dia- 
monds, or Madame Blanche without her silks or satins ? 
Simply common-place, old women, past their prime, 
destined to be wall-flowers. A fashionable woman has 
just as many new dresses as the different times she 
goes into societ)'. The elite do not wear the same 
dresses twice. If you can tell us how many receptions 
she has in a year, how many weddings she attends, 
hov/ many balls sjj^ participates in, how many dinners 
she gives, how many parties she goes to, how many 
operas and theatres she patronizes, we can approxi- 
mate somewhat to the size and cost of her wardrobe. 
It is not unreasonable to suppose that she has two 
new dresses of some sort for ever)^ day in the year, or 
seven hundred and twent}". Now, to purchase all 
these, to order them made, and to put them on after- 
ward, consumes a vast amount of time. Indeed, the 
woman of society does little but don and doff Ars 
o-oods. For a few brief hours she flutters the latest 
tint and mode in the glare of the gaslight, and then re- 
peats the same operation the next night. She must 
have one or two velvet dresses, which cannot cost less 
than $500 each ; she must possess thousands of dol- 
lars' worth of laces, in the shape of flounces, to loop 
up overskirts of dresses, as occasion shall require. 
Walking dresses cost from $50 to $300 ; ball dresses 
are frequently imported from Paris at a cost of from 



A FASHIONABLE LADY's WARDROBE. 205 

^500 to ^1000; while a wedding dress may cost from 
<^iooo to $5000. Nice white Llama jackets can be had 
for ^60 ; robes princesse, or overskirts of lace, are worth 
from ^60 to $200. Then there are traveling dresses 
in black silk, in pongee, in velvet, in pique, which 
range in price from ^75 to ^175. Then there are 
evening robes in Swiss muslin, robes in linen for the 
garden and croquet playing, dresses for horse-races 
and for yacht-races, robes de 7iuit and robes de chambre, 
dresses for breakfast and for dinner, dresses for recep- 
tions and for parties, dresses for watering places, and 
dresses for all possible occasions. A lady going to the 
Springs takes from tw^enty to sixty dresses, and fills an 
enormous number of Saratoga trunks. They are of 
every possible fabric, from Hindoo muslin, "gaze de 
sole,' crape maretz, to the heavy silks of Lyons." 

This is no exaggerated picture. The sales of silks 
at Stewart's, alone, average about ^15,000 daily, and 
each of the other monster dry^ goods establishments 
do a business in proportion. For the finer articles of 
dress, gloves, laces, velvets, shawls and the like, thou- 
sands are spent every day at these establishments ; 
and the fashionable modistes, or dressmakers, have an 
enormous custom and soon grow rich. Some years 
ago a gentleman, whose residence had been consumed 
by fire, submitted to a leading insurance company a 
claim for ^21,000 on his daughter's wardrobe alone. 
The claim was disputed. It was carried into court, 
where it was proved, item by item, and the company 
was compelled to pay the money. 

Nor are the men one whit behind the women in their 
extravagance. They have their follies, their dissipa- 



206 NEW YORK. 

tions, their clubs, their fast teams, and a hundred other 
ways of getting rid of money, and they manage to 
spend it quite as lavishly as the ladies of their families. 
Yachting, the races and cards absorb large sums, 
and heavy amounts go to women whose charms are 
for sale to the highest bidder. The men are coarser 
than the women, and their pleasures and dissipations 
are of a lower grade. They have not the tact which 
enables the female members of their families to get 
along in the fashionable world, and seek amusement 
elsewhere. They are liberal patrons of the drama, 
especially the ballet and "the leg business." Many do 
not make any attempts to accompany their wives and 
daughters to fashionable entertainments. They are 
out of their element there, and prefer to seek pleasure 
in their own way. 

Entertainments are given in the most elaborate and 
costly style, and thousands of dollars are paid out in a 
single evening for this purpose. A fashionable party 
will consume from fifteen hundred to two thousand 
dollars worth of champagne alone. It is no uncom- 
mon' thing for an elaborate ball to cost from ten to fif- 
teen thousand dollars, or even more, or for a dinner 
party to cost from five thousand dollars upward. There 
are many things to be provided besides the entertain- 
ment itself, and these all go to swell the bill. At some 
of these entertainments costly presents of jewelry are 
given to each guest, delicately enclosed in the folds of 
rich bouquets. 

Now this is well enough for those who can afiford it; 
but the majority of the New York fashionables cannot 
stand the strain longf. As we have said, their wealth, 



HONOR SOLD FOR MONEY. 207 

great though it be, melts steadily under such demands 
upon it, until there is nothing left, and bankruptcy and 
ruin end the story. From time to time the business 
community is startled by the failure, perhaps the sui- 
cide, of some nominally well-to-do merchant or banker. 
The affair causes a brief sensation and is soon forgot- 
ten. The cause is well known. "Living beyond his 
means," or "ruined by his family's extravagance," is 
the stereotyped reason given. Men suffer the tortures 
of the damned in their efforts to maintain their com- 
mercial standing, and at the same time to provide their 
families with the means of keeping their places in so- 
ciety. They are driven to forgery, defalcation, and other 
crimes, yet they do not achieve their object. Ruin 
lays its hand upon them, and the game is played out. 

As for Madame, she must have money. The hus- 
band may not be able to furnish it, and there may be 
a limit to even the pawnbroker's generosity ; but money 
she must have. Fashionable life affords her the means. 
She sells her honor for filthy lucre ; she finds a lover 
with a free purse, and willing to pay for her favors. 
She acts with her eyes open, and sins deliberately, and 
from the basest of motives. She wants money and she 
gets it. Sometimes the intrigue runs on without detec- 
tion, and Madame shifts from lover to lover, according 
to her needs. Again there is an unexpected discovery; 
an explosion follows; Madame's fine reputation goes 
to the winds ; and there is a gap in society. No 
wonder so many fashionable women look jaded, have 
an anxious, half-startled expression, and seem weary. 
They are living in a state of dread lest their secrets be 
discovered and the inevitable ruin overtake them. 



208 NEW YORK. 

III. 

FASHIONABLE BALLS AND PARTIES, 

The fashionable entertainments of New York are 
noted for their magnificence and their great cost. 
During the season, which comprises the late fall, the 
winter, and the early spring, scarcely a night passes 
that does not witness one or more balls or parties. 
Sometimes these are inconveniently close to each other, 
and the arriving and departing carriages are uncom- 
fortably crowded in the street. Sometimes the host 
and hostess prefer to give their entertainment at one 
of the establishments — Delmonico's, or one of his 
rivals — specially fitted up for that purpose. This saves 
an immense amount of trouble at home, for the whole 
affair is then placed in the hands of the fashionable 
caterer, who provides everything, attends to all the 
details, and the givers of the entertainment have only 
to dress at home and repair to the appointed place in 
time to receive their guests. The plan has its advan- 
tages. Others, especially those who have large and ele- 
gant mansions suited to such gatherings, prefer to give 
their balls and parties at their own houses. Whichever 
method be adopted, the entertainment is sure to be a 
costly one. Anywhere from $5000 to |;20,ooo must be 
expended on a fashionable party. The details are gen- 
erally left to the mistress of the house; the liege lord's 
share in the affair is to do what he can towards making 
the evening pleasant, and pay the bills without grumb- 
ling. 

Having decided to give a party, the hostess sum- 
mons fo her aid the sexton of the fashionable church 
she attends, and gives him a list of the names of 



SCENES AT A FASHIONABLE PARTY. 209 

the guests she wishes invited. He has carte blanche 
to add to this the names of any desirable young men 
he may think worthy of the honor, and of any distin- 
guished strangers, foreigners especially, who may be 
in the city at the time. The late lamented Brown, of 
Grace Church, during his day enjoyed almost a mo- 
nopoly of this business, and amassed quite a snug for- 
tune therefrom. The fashionable sextons all keep lists 
of the eligible young men in town, and are literally be- 
sieged for invitations. Some of them turn a pretty 
penny by "giving" these only to the young men who 
can afford to pay for them, even going so far as to re- 
vise the list of the mistress of the house, when it is to 
their interest to do so. 

The invitations out, and the preparations for the ball 
being made, the hostess turns her attention to her own 
costume, and to those of the members of her family. 
This requires much thought and many consultations 
with the modiste. Society, on its part, is engaged in 
similar preparations, and the dry goods stores and 
dressmakers reap a harvest. 

Upon the night of the entertainment a carpet is 
spread from the doorway to the edge of the sidewalk, 
and a temporary awning is erected over this. A po- 
liceman is provided to keep off the crowd of lookers- 
on which such an occasion invariably draws, and the 
sexton in charge takes his place at the door to receive 
the cards of invitation as the o-uests arrive. 

Between nine and ten, handsome carriages, with ser- 
vants in livery, drive up and deposit their inmates at 
the awning, through which they pass into the house, 
delivering their cards of invitation to the pompous 

14 



210 



NEW YORK. 



sexton at the door. Thence they pass to the dressing- 
room to divest themselves of their wraps, after which 
they descend to the drawing-room and pay their re- 
spects to their host and hostess. When there is to be 
dancing, a fine orchestra is provided, and if the Ger- 
man is to be danced during the evening, the fact is 
announced by placing a row of chairs around the room 
and tying them in couples with pocket handkerchiefs. 
But litde dancing is engaged in during the earlier 
hours of the evening, this time being generally taken 
up by the arrivals of the guests, and in promenading. 
By a litde before midnight the parlors are filled with a 
brilliant and richly-dressed throng ; conversation and 
laughter rise confusedly on the heated air ; and the en- 
livening strains of the musicians fill the place with en- 

trancing melody. , 

At midnight the supper rooms are thrown open and 
the parlors are at once deserted for the tables. Fash- 
ionable New York dearly loves these suppers, and 
responds cordially to the invitations of those who have 
the reputation of giving good ones. The service is ex- 
cellent ; the waiters are either French or colored are 
attired as faultlessly as the gentlemen guests, and m 
exact imitation of them, and are adepts at their busi- 
ness. All one's wants are quickly and courteously 
supplied, without confusion or delay. The table groans 
with the choicest delicacies of the season, served in the 
most tempting manner. Wine flows freely; as many 
as several hundred bottles often being consumed dur-, 
ing the evening. The ladies drink as heartily as their 
partners, and one wonders how they can stand it so 
well. 



SMALL TALK. 211 

Supper over, the ball-room soon fills up again and 
the dancing- begins in earnest. If the German is 
danced, the better part of the small hours of the morn- 
ing are devoted to it. As the dance is generally fa- 
miliar to our readers, we shall attempt no description 
of it ; but will merely remark that it seems to owe its 
popularity to the fact that it permits liberties to be 
taken with the fair sex which would not be tolerated 
under other circumstances. 

During the Intervals of the dances conversation, 
such as it is, goes on unflaggingly. The following is a 
verbatim report of a part of a conversation between a 
young lady of high position in society and an equally 
"high-toned" young man. It is given as it was over- 
heard : — 

He. " Aw, Miss Jay, saw you joying the races 
to-day." 

She. " Yeth ; they're awfully jawly, ain't they ? 
Right fun to bet, ain't it?" 

He. " Ya-as, rawther jawly to bet when you win, 
you know ; but beastly, awfully beastly, to bet and lose, 
you know." 

She. " Did you lose ? Well, that wan't so offly jawly. 
Lost myself, yest'day. Dare say you'll win 'gain to- 
morrow, and then you'll think it jawly fun, you know." 

He. "O! dare say shall; but caunt help feelin' 
beastly 'bout losin' yest'day, you know. Do you like 
boating ? Think its right fun, and offly jawly, you 
know." 

But we will not weary the reader. Towards daylight 
the guests depart, worn out with fatigue, and some- 
times a little hazy from the fumes of the champagne 



212 NEW YORK. 

that has gotten into their heads, and the ball is over. 
Night after night, during the season, the same perform- 
ance is repeated at other houses. No wonder, then, 
that society is so sorely in need of rest and change 
when the summer comes and the watering places open 
their doors ; it is literally worn out. 

Some strange things happen at these fashionable 
gatherings. Often the host or hostess is starded by the 
news of a robbery in the very midst of the festivities. 
In most instances the articles taken are of value, such 
as jewelry, and are such as can be easily secreted about 
the person. The criminal, as a rule, is no vulgar thief, 
but is one of society's privileged and envied members. 
Two instances, taken from real life, will illustrate this. 
The NewYork Tribune oi]\Ay i6th, 1877, contained the 
following account of one of these fashionable thieves. 
We give it in the words of that journal, not wishing to 
be thought guilty of exaggeration : — 

"The dingy back office of a New York detective 
was the scene of an impressive spectacle several weeks 
ago. In the presence of the gentlemen— one a well- 
known detective, the other a prominent merchant — 
knelt a fashionably dressed man of middle age. confess- 
ing a shameful story of crime, and imploring mercy. 

"'I admit all,' he cried. 'I stole the property, but I 
cannot restore it. I was driven to the deed in order 
to maintain my position in society. My means had 
largely left me, and I could not resist temptation.'— 

'O'his statement fell like a thunderbolt upon the 
merchant, who had known the speaker long and favor- 
ably. To the detective, however, it was not at all unex- 
pected, as he had already satisfied himself as to the guilt 



FASHIONABLE "sneak THIEVES. 213 

of the man. The steaHng which was here confessed is 
one of those crimes in the higher circles of society 
which are generally kept hidden from the public. 

"In the early part of last December the family of a 
prominent lawyer living on Fifth avenue gave a social 
entertainment, to which only persons of high standing 
in society were invited. The following morning it was 
discovered that rings, watches, and jewelry worth seve- 
ral hundred dollars, were missing. The most careful 
search and close examination of servants forced the 
conclusion upon the family that the robbery had been 
committed by some one of the guests, although this 
seemed incredible, as ever}^ name upon the list of those 
present seemed to forbid the thought of suspicion. The 
affair was put into the hands of private detectives, who 
were unable, however, to obtain the slightest clew to 
the thief or to the property. 

"A few days later a wealthy merchant entertained a 
large number of friends, and the following day a wed- 
ding ring and other jewelry, in value about ^looo, but 
prized far more on account of family associations, were 
missing. Every- nook and corner of the house was 
searched, and detectives watched the servants, but mys- 
tery continued to surround the matter. Meanwhile, 
another merchant held a reception in his brownstone 
house on a fashionable up-town street, and also suffered 
a loss during the evening of jewelry, watches, and 
other property, valued at from ^200 to $300. The 
articles in this case were in a room where the gentle- 
men assembled, and the theft lay between some one of 
them and an old servant, whom the master of the 
house immediately exculpated, declaring that he did 



2X4 NEW YORK. 

not suspect him in the least. The investigation of this 
theft also was given to detectives, who visited the pawn- 
brokers' shops of this and other cities, but none of the 
property was discovered. An entertainment at the 
residence of another well known citizen resulted m the 
disappearance of more jewelry, and a mystery deeper 
than any of those already in the hands of detectives. 

" One of the detectives at work upon these cases, 
becoming convinced that the thief in each case was one 
and the same person, and moreover, that this person 
was a member of the company at each party, began a 
systematic course of action, which was finally crowned 
with success. The names of the ladies and gentlemen 
attending all four of the pardes were obtained, and 
were entered in his note-book. The list presented a 
formidable array of judges, lawyers, editors, physicians 
brokers, and other professional and business men, and 
their wives and daughters. Upon investigating the 
reputations of these persons the detective was at a loss 
to know whom, to suspect, all of them having the full 
confidence of their friends and the public. At length his 
attention was attracted to a gentleman whose expen- 
sive social habits and recent reverses in business made 
the detective think that he was on the right track. 
This man is a down-town broker, now a member of a 
well-known firm. His name and family are well known 
in this city, and he has long enjoyed a position in the 
very best society. For years he has been a prominent 
club and society man, always dressing in the height of 
fashion, and rendering himself very agreeable to his 
numerous acquaintances. He is an unmarried man. 
and having a handsome personal appearance and at- 



HOW A BROKER BECAME A THIEF 215 

tractive manners, he is popular with ladies. He is a 
member of one of the leading regiments of New York, 
and has sporting tastes. 

" It was discovered that the broker was in the rooms 
in the houses in which the thefts were made, and in the 
case of the $1000 robbery, he and one of the judges of 
the Supreme Court were the only persons who were 
seen in the apartment containing the property. With 
this and other clews the detective, and the families by 
which he was employed, became convinced that the 
broker was the thief, and an anonymous letter was sent 
to him, charging him with the stealing, and informing 
him that unless restitution of the property was made 
immediately, the circumstances would be given to the 
public, and he would be handed over to the police. 
This letter had the desired effect, as the broker at once 
appointed a meeting with the detective, and, in the 
presence of one of the merchants whose residence he 
had robbed while enjoying his hospitality, made a clean 
breast of the entire matter. The broker, in telling his 
story, said that he had not been doing so well, finan- 
cially, as in former years, and it was necessary for him 
to get sums of money from some source in order to 
meet his obligations and social expenses. The jewelry 
he had sold for cash, and it was now impossible to 
recover it." 

The broker was arrested at the instigation of one of 
the merchants whom he had robbed, but through the 
influence of his relatives and friends he was released 
on bail, and the matter was finally hushed up, the value 
of the stolen property being paid. 

The following incident was reported by the late 



216 NEW YORK. 

Samuel McKeever, for one of the city journals to which 
he was attached : — 

"Investigation has shown me that no experienced 
lady gives a party now without having among her black- 
coated gentlemen guests a regular detective, whose 
duty it is to look as if he were enjoying himself 
intensely, and to watch all the others at the same time. 

"You can't blame the practice, although it does take 
the bloom off of hospitality, and m.akes the amenities 
of fashionable life a rather ghastly farce. If those you 
invite to your house number among them men and 
women with the instincts of footpads, it becomes the 
duty of the entertainer to protect his or her property, 
and the property of the guests, at all hazards. 

"One of these detectives was Introduced to me, and 
I had quite a talk with him upon the subject. It is new 
work for him, and he is mightily pleased with It. His 
first capture was a woman, a handsome, accomplished 
widow, who was invited as regularly to every swell 
affair as they happened. 

"This Is how he caught her: 

"'It was about the first of October,' he said 'that a 
lady living on 6i st street issued c ards for a very elegant 
reception, on the occasion of her daughter's marriage. 
She had been one of the sufferers from the fashionable 
stealing we have been talking about, and she resolved 
this time that she would set a trap for the mice. 

" 'So she drove down to our office the day before — 
I belong to a private firm of detectives — and asked 
that some one be detailed at her residence for that 
evening. 

'"I was selected by the head of the firm, who pre- 



DETECTIVES AT FASHIONABLE PARTIES. 217 

sented me with regular cards of invitation that the 
high-toned lady had brought with her. I was not a lit- 
tle embarrassed, you can well imagine, for ten years* 
knocking about among dangerous characters, and being 
constantly engaged in putting up jobs on the most 
brilliant members of what we call the 'swell mob,' had 
rather unfitted me for contact with members of the 
upper ten thousand. 

"'And I didn't have a dress suit! 

"'But that was easily managed, thanks to a costumer 
on the Bowery, and when I presented myself at the 
brownstone mansion at about half-past nine, I flattered 
myself I was quite the correct thing in my get-up. 

'"Necktie, kid gloves, suit, boots, all proclaimed me 
the proper kind of guest. One thing I am certain of; 
I wasn't half as awkward as some of the g-awks about 
me, and I hadn't been in the parlors ten minutes before 
I felt perfectly at my ease. 

'"The hostess introduced me as a friend of her late 
husband, and passed me over to a heavy old swell, who 
turned out to be in the grain trade. He got me in the 
corner, and kept buzzing me for nearly an hour about 
the crop failures in England, and the immense export- 
ing advantages it would be to this country. 

'"All this time, while I v/as listening to the aged cove, 
and trying to do my level best in replying to him, I 
didn't forget what I had come for. My eyes went up 
and down the room like a patrolman, studying each 
face and watching keenly if any of the guests disap- 
peared from the rooms, after formally entering them. 
There was no reason for anticipating any dishonest 
operation, and my position was looked upon, both by 



218 NEW YORK. 

myself and the lady of the house, as a sinecure ; but, 
nevertheless, I could not drive it from my mind that 
something of a sensational nature would turn up during 
the course of the evening. 

"'And it did. 

'"There was a very stylish, vivacious, handsome 
widow present, to whom I had been introduced. It 
struck me then that she talked too much; that she sur- 
rounded herself with a cloud of conversation which 
concealed from every one but myself a certain restless- 
ness, which was a sure indication of a project being 
evolved in her brain. 

'"The wedding presents, which were very handsome, 
were all arranged in a brilliantly illuminated room 
up stairs, which, when the survey of them was finished, 
was left in charge of a faithful negro servant belong- 
ing to the establishment. Among the collection was a 
handsome, rare old point lace fichu. This was very 
valuable, and in proportion to its size, really the most 
valuable of all. 

'"It was shortly after we entered the refreshment 
room that the widow complained of feeling ill. A 
chocolate ice had not agreed with her, and the apart- 
ment was too hot. She would go into the parlor and 
rest awhile. The time she chose was when every 
guest was more or less occupied with the cheerful task 
of eating and drinking, when all the servants of the 
house, excepting the one guarding the presents, were 
employed down stairs. 

" * I looked steadily at the lady of the house, and with 
all the significance that I could command. This was 
to prepare her for what I was about to say, which was: 



THE PRETTY WIDOW AND THE DETECTIVE. 219 

" ' ' Hadn't I better take Mrs. a glass of wine ?' 

""Certainly; it is very kind of you,' she replied, 
' and tell her I will be there in a moment to see if she 
needs anything else.' 

'"As I had anticipated, the parlor was empty, and 
what was more remarkable, the front door was open, 

" ' I went up the stairs as swiftly and as silently as I 
could. When I reached the door of the room contain- 
ing the presents, I detected the odor of chloroform. 

" ' The door was partially closed. I pushed it open, 
and it was easily seen from whence the scent came. 
There sat the darkey, insensible, in his chair, his head 
thrown back, his face covered with a handkerchief. 
The widow was in the act of pocketing the fichu, the 
position of the two parties in the room clearly showing 
how she had stolen on the negro unawares. I could 
have arrested her then, but I had a great curiosity to 
see what her future movements would be like ; so when 
she made a motion to turn, I stepped closely back in 
the shadow of the landing. She brushed past me, and 
floated down the stairs like a silken sigh, I after her. 

" 'AH this liadn't taken more than five minutes. In- 
stead of going straight into the parlor, she passed to the 
front door, which, as I have said, was open. I crouched 
down, but still sufficiendy in range of vision to see her 
beckon her coachman, who was, singularly enough, in 
the neighborhood at so early an hour. He came to the 
stoop, and she passed him the fichu. 

" ' Then she entered the parlor again, and when I, in 
about ten seconds, followed her, she was the most beau- 
tiful sick woman, lying among the satin cushions of a 
sofa, that I ever saw. 



220 NEW YORK. 

" ' I went to the mantel where I had placed the glass 
of wine, and said, in my most engaging manner, ' Mrs. 

sent me to you with this, and her compliments. 

Try it ; it will do you good.' 

" ' There was no deceiving her. She saw at once 
that something terrible had happened. How came the 
wine to be in the parlor ? I must have been there dur- 
ing her absence. Still, she did not give herself up to 
confusion. She shivered a little, and said, ' Is there not 
a door open somewhere ?' 

" ' ' Yes,' I replied, ' the front door. Since you did 
not close it just now when you spoke to your coach- 
man, I thought you desired it open. Fresh air is a 
good thing after chloroform.' 

" 'This ended it. She looked up at me and swooned. 
In the meantime the hostess and the guests began to 
arrive. They crowded about the widow, and I, taking 
advantage of an opportunity which presented itself, told 
the lady of the house what had occurred. Just as I 
did so, a servant discovered his chloroformed compan- 
ion, and came shouting down the stairs. 

"'All was confusion. Four or five other ladies 
fainted in convenient corners, and in a few minutes the 
theory was that the establishment had been entered by 
means of a skeleton key, and that perhaps even now 
every closet was jammed with burglars and murderers. 
I know that we had a jolly good search all over the 
house. The bride was at first terribly annoyed at the 
loss, but when her mother told her the circumstances, 
dumb horror and surprise took possession of her. 

" ' If I hadn't been there the plan would have worked 
beautifully. The front door was opened for three rea- 



THE COACHMAN ACCOMPLICE. 221 

sons — to communicate with the coachman, to start the 
theory of a sneak thief, and to have blown away what- 
ever dehcate traces of chloroform may have clung to 
the widow's dress. 

" * I saw the pretty widow home that night in her own 
carriage. When we were a block away from the 
house, I made her get the stolen article from the dri- 
ver. He was thunderstruck at the request, and was 
very much worried at my presence. I returned the 
loot, and that's all there is to the story.* 

" ' Didn't they prosecute her?' 

" ' No ; what was the use. They got the fichu — the 
fish-hook, as I always call it — but they let the fish off. 
Such things are not stealing among the way up — it's 
kleptomania.' 

" ' But the coachman,' — 

" ' He wasn't a real coachman, any more than she 
was a real widow. They were man and wife, but he 
could work better as coachman.' 

'"Then this was their reo^ular business.' 

" ' Been at it for years. I squeezed Mr. Coachman 
on my own account, and got over one hundred pawn 
tickets from him, making quite a neat 'spec' by offer- 
ing to return goods to parties if no questions were 
asked. Altogether, my first evening among the ' lum- 
tums' panned out well.' 

IV. 

FASHIONABLE RECEPTIONS. 

Every lady of fashion in New York has a certain 
day of the week set apart on which she receives her 
"dear five hundred friends." At such times she is "at 



222 NEW YORK. 

home" to all her acquaintances of both sexes, who may 
wish to call. These are very select affairs, and are 
occasions for the display of magnificent costumes by 
the lady visitors. Few gentlemen are present, the 
hours being generally from four to six, a period of the 
day when the male creature is occupied with other 
matters; so the ladies usually have the field to them- 
selves. On such occasions any man who may happen 
to be present is pretty sure of being the centre of a 
circle of attraction, not because of any particular merit 
in himself, but simply because he is a creature who 
does not wear petticoats. A correspondent of The 
Queen, the London "Lady's Newspaper," thus describes 
one of these gatherings: — 

"Of course the awning is up, and it is something 
better than a roof on poles, being a completely enclosed 
passage, sides, roof, fioor and all, complete, running 
down to the curb, so that no wind or rain can penetrate 
it. The crowd of curious ragamufifins is thus dispensed 
with, and the kid boots and the front hair — which, by 
the way, is always frizzled, or crimped or curled in some 
loose way, on the American female head — protected 
from the ravages of the elements. The first figure we 
see is a remarkable one. Standing on the steps is a 
portly man, with pompous aids, the sexton of some 
fashionable temple, who by virtue of his ofiice holds an 
unassailable position in New York society. He is a 
kind of social factotum at all parties of consideration. 

"New York houses are mostly somewhat narrow — 
three or four rooms on the ground fioor, one behind 
the other and with folding doors thrown open, and per- 
haps one or two rooms on the first floor, form the recep- 



FASHIONABLE RECEPTIONS. 223 

tlon apartment, into which, without individual announce- 
ment, we are ushered. It is an inconvenient but very- 
general custom here, even if you are making- a call, for 
the man to say, 'Step right into the parlor, sir,' indi- 
cating the room and leaving you to obtrude your unan- 
nounced presence on its occupants. This may be 
awkward, but any young lady who doesn't like it can 
remedy it. Possibly this reception is given, as is the 
custom here, in addition to a ball, to celebrate the 
'coming out' of a daughter of the house. If so, she has 
some of her friends to receive with her, who have their 
bonnets off and move round the room, introducing 
where it is necessary — always called 'presenting' in this 
country — and performing all those little offices which 
are almost too much for one hostess. It is a good 
plan, and quite frequent here, for the hostess to have 
other ladies to receive with her, as besides the air of 
comfort and familiarity, it gives a certain 'go' to what 
would otherwise be rather a slow and formal affair. 
The cards have 'four to six ' on them, and, of course, in 
the winter gas is necessary all over the house. The 
effect of the brilliantly lighted and decorated rooms is 
enriched by a throng of women dressed up to their eyes 
and full of gayety. Over all these is an aspect of high 
spirits and animation, which would strike an English 
visitor more than anything else. 

"The air of general animation over a party here, 
composed of a different class of people, is, perhaps, not 
excepting beauty, Its most charming element ; it is the 
aggregate effect of the individual vivacity and piquancy 
of the American female character, which, in its best 
representatives, seems to add these traits to all that is 



224 NEW YORK. 

estimable in English women — a tolerably bold state- 
ment, I fear, for your columns. Observe this young 
lady here, on the sofa, a belle, and considered 'bright,' 
but there are many like her in the room. Her beauty 
and grace, her complexion and dress, we will put on 
one side or wont mention, as the Irish writer puts it; 
but mark her sparkling face and genial good humor as 
she talks, the felicity of her language, the readiness of 
her repartee, always delicate, but generally with a 
delicious little dash of satire; the clearness of her 
ideas, the tact with which she draws out her companion, 
to show his best points, and the generally unaffected 
ease with which she sustains a lengthened conversation 
on any subject under the sun, with fool or wise man. 
Mr. Editor, they are a wonderful race are these Ameri- 
can women; but one word about the flowers, this after- 
noon, and I shall have done. The rooms are covered 
with them in every shape and variety of tasteful 
arrangement. Wreaths of the fresh and graceful 
smilax — a fern which I have not seen in England, but 
which is admirably adapted to decoration — interspersed 
with flowers, depend from the chandeliers, cornices, 
and mantelpieces. A magnificent cornucopia of all 
kinds of flowers, perfect in formation and in the blend- 
ing of color, stands in one corner of the room. In the 
next, where the chandelier is hung, is a large, loosely 
made ball, nearly a yard in diameter, of different-colored 
flowers, and embedded in it on either side, also formed 
of flowers, is a graceful H, the initial letter of the 
daughter's name for whom the reception is given. 
Plateaus of flowers stand against the walls and hang 
from the pictures, while the mantelpieces are buds of 



FASHIONABLE WEDDINGS. 225 

moss and fern, in which rare exotics are growing, or 
drooping plants form a natural fringe toward the effect 
of freshness, light, and nature's beauty that this floral 
wealth gives to rooms which, without it, have nothing 
to depend on but art. It is the great forte of Ameri- 
can entertainment. Flowers are very dear in winter, 
but no cost is spared to secure their display." 

V. 

FASHIONABLE WEDDINGS. 

The Roman Catholic Church teaches that the " holy 
estate of Matrimony" is a sacrament, and the Protest- 
ant Churches hold that it is "honorable among all men; 
and therefore is not to be entered into unadvisedly or 
lightly, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, 
and in the fear of God." New York fashionable 
society regards it as a financial matter, to be regulated 
and arranged upon strict business principles. True, 
there may be affection on one or both sides, and many 
happy marriages are contracted in this class; but it may 
be laid down as a general rule that fashionable #mar- 
riagfes are arranged with reo^ard to the amount of 
money on one or both sides. Men who have risen to 
wealth often make the marriage of a son or daughter 
the means of getting their families within the sacred pale 
of fashionable society. Again, there are many aristo- 
cratic families, genuine Knickerbockers, who have run 
down in wealth, and are unable to provide for a son or 
daughter. With all their blue blood, they know they 
cannot maintain their places in society without money. 
That must be had, and the only way to procure it is to 

15 



226 NEW YORK. 

arrange a marriage for their child with an offspring of 
one of the " Newly Rich." It may be a bitter pill to 
swallow, but it has to be done. The money that will 
thus be brought into the family will enable their child 
to keep his or her accustomed place in society, and, of 
course, Papa and Mamma will not be allowed to suffer. 
So a desirable partner is sought. Personal qualifica- 
tions, such as beauty, intelligence, education, or refine- 
ment, are not considered; money is the sole desideratum, 
and every effort is made to secure as rich a match as 
possible. The acquaintance of some wealthy shoddy 
family is formed; every social attention is showered 
upon them ; the intimacy of the Knickerbockers opens 
the way for them into the most exclusive circles of fash- 
ionable life, and they are made to taste the sweets of 
this seventh heaven to their utmost. The "Newly 
Rich" are delighted; their proudest hopes are realized; 
they rank among the most select families of New York, 
and at last are at the very summit of fashionable fame. 
When the proper moment arrives, Knickerbocker 
squarely proposes to Shoddy that the two families, 
already so intimate, shall be bound to each other by a 
still strono^er tie, in the marriaofe of their children. 
Shoddy, in delight, accepts the proposition, and the 
matter is arranged by the heads of the respective fami- 
lies before the young people are informed of the good 
fortune in store for them. The parents have too much 
confidence in the good sense of their children to appre- 
hend any opposition. Young as they are, they will be 
sure to see the advantages of a match which will bring 
with it fortune to one and a secured social position to 
the other. The young fashionables of the great city 



liOW FASHIONABLE MARRIAGES ARE ARRANGED. 227 

are very wise In their generation, as regards money. 
They have been taught and appreciate its power. The 
one cannot afford to throw away such a brilliant chance 
for social distinction, and the other shudders at the 
thought of stepping down from the place so long occu- 
pied, and giving up the power and distinction that 
wealth brings with it. Tender ties may have been 
formed by one or both, in some other direction; but 
these are remorselessly severed, and the "sensible" 
young people fall into the arrangement of their parents, 
and meekly submit to the inevitable. After all, what 
matters it. The marriage yoke, as they see, sits loosely 
upon those of their acquaintance who bear it. Why 
should it be different with them? So the matter is 
arranged, the marriage is solemnized, and society is 
delighted with the splendid match. 

Again, fashionable marriages are often arranged with 
regard to the business advantao-es that will follow 
them. Two fortunes combined are more powerful than 
either could be singly, and as wealth is the great power 
in New York, It Is well to concentrate as much as pos- 
sible in one family. So the sale of hearts and hands 
goes on from year to year, and paves the way for more 
of the domestic Infelicity that makes fashionable life so 
hollow and empty. 

Oftentimes one of the Newly Rich deliberately seeks 
out some man of assured position, and offers him the 
hand of his daughter, and a handsome fortune with 
it. The condition of the bargain is that the gentleman, 
on his part, shall do all in his power to secure every 
social advantage for the family of the lady. The girl 
may be handsome and clever, or the reverse, but if 



228 NEW YORK. 

the sum tendered is sufficiently large, the offer is rarely 
refused. 

When an engagement is contracted, it is promptly 
announced in one of the "Society journals," of which 
there are several in New York, Then the marriage 
is hurried forward with as much speed as is consistent 
with propriety. The ceremony, of course, is celebrated 
at a fashionable church. To be married from St. 
Thomas' or Grace Church is to enjoy the highest social 
distinction on such occasions. Invitations are sent out to 
fashionable friends, and at the appointed time the 
church is filled with a throng of magnificently dressed 
ladies, and gentlemen in the regulation full dress. 
Two or more clergymen are present to tie the knot, 
and a reporter of one of the city dailies is on hand to 
"write up" the wedding in the most glowing terms. 
Evening is generally the time chosen for the ceremony, 
as gaslight is more favorable than daylight for showing 
off the toilettes of the bridal party and the invited 
guests. 

The English style is now the "correct thing" at 
fashionable weddings. At the appointed hour the 
organ breaks forth into the exquisite strains of the 
"Bridal Chorus," from Lohengrin, and the bridegroom 
enters from the vestry room, accompanied by his "best 
man," and takes his place before the altar rail, while 
the clergy file into the church and stand ready to 
perform their functions. Then the great doors of the 
church are thrown open, and the bridal party enters, 
led by the bride, in full dress, on the arm of her father. 
The places are taken at the altar rail, the groom re- 
ceives the bride from her father's hands, Hnd the cere- 



GUARDING THE BRIDAL PEZSENTS. 



•■tdSa iici.inj,:3»_;^- 



mony begins, Lie or^'S.n v" ■ 
with a low undertone oi 

The ceremony oven the brie; 
residence of ' : 

the two fi": 
gratula ■ i 
of th^ 

ent5 : ' ; . i" i 

purpose, 

house . : 
trusted alone w:. 

tective is ^ : ::\ 
Ye: 



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229 
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230 NEW YORK. 

or reception, language fails. Mr. Lanthier was sought 
out recently. He said his duties were simple, and for 
the most part agreeable. 

"The first thing I do," he said, "when I go to a 
reception, is to take a look through the house, up 
and down stairs, in order to acquaint myself with the 
different rooms as well as with the position of valuable 
articles. For this reason I usually go a short time be- 
fore the guests are expected. While the guests are 
arriving I usually stand in the hall to watch them as 
they enter. I am very apt to know a professional thief 
by his face. Where the presents are very numerous 
and valuable I generally have the smaller ones, such 
as the diamonds and other jewelry which a person 
could pocket and carry away readily, put on a table 
by themselves. Then I take a seat near them. I am 
supposed, by most of those who see me, to be a guest. 
If anybody guesses otherwise, I am contented they 
should have their opinion. I inform myself about the 
presents, and when guests come up to inspect them, 
they naturally fall to talking, to express their admira- 
tion. I am able to tell them about the presents. One 
guest, therefore, sees me talking with another, and he 
is not likely to remark that I remain in one part of the 
room all the afternoon or evening. If I sat still and 
said nothing, I would soon become an object of notice. 

Stories are told by detectives, of ladies, whose fami- 
lies are of the highest respectability, whom they have 
pointed out to the givers of entertainments as having 
stolen valuable presents. In several cases related by 
the detective, the valuables were recovered udder 
threats of arrest, and scandals resulted. In others, 



FASHIONABLE WP:D1)ING Pi-ESENTS. 231 

the host was unwilling to make accusations, preferring 
to avoid the scandal that would follow an exposure. 
In one case a lady fainted when she was accused. She 
would not confess, and she was not searched, but it 
was afterwards said a diamond ring was returned by 
her father, an action which the detective who told the 
story criticised as inexcusably simple on the father's 
part, if he had in view merely the reputation of his 
daughter. It is said that several series of thefts have 
been committed by young men so fascinated with so- 
ciety life that they lived beyond their means, and at 
last were driven by what appeared to them necessity, 
to steal. 

A fashionable wedding is a costly affair, not only to 
the families immediately concerned with it, but alsq 
to their friends who are honored with invitations. 
Thousands of dollars are spent upon the outfits of the 
"happy pair;" and the fees to the clergyman, the 
sexton, the orof^nist and attendants at the church, and 
the cost of the festivities after the ceremony, make up 
an enormous sum. The friends of both families are 
expected to send handsome presents, and as these are 
always put on exhibition with the cards of the givers 
attached, they are always elegant and costly. A few 
years ago, at the wedding of one of the daughters of a 
leading politician, the wedding presents amounted in 
value to more than ^250,000. When it is remembered 
that marriages in fashionable life are numerous each 
year, it will be easy to understand what a tax upon the 
friends of the happy pair this present-giving amounts 
to. It is a sort of fashionable "black mail" which 
society levies upon its members. 



232 NEW YORK. 

FASHIONABLE DEATH. 

As only the rich can afford to Hve in New York 
society, so only the rich can afford to die in it. Death 
is an expensive luxury in the great city, and a fashion- 
able funeral generally costs as much as a comfortable 
dwelling in one of our smaller cities. In nothing, 
probably, is the law of fashion more rigorously enforced 
than in the burial of the dead. Music and flowers are 
as necessary at a funeral as at a wedding, and the 
body must be attired for its final resting-place with the 
utmost care. The best of .kid gloves must be furnished 
to the pall bearers, and carriages must be provided in 
which the relatives and friends may ride to the cem- 
etery. If the funeral ceremonies be held at a church, 
artd it is one of the strictest laws of fashion that they 
shall be, the sexton must not be neglected, nor the 
organist and choir go unrewarded, and unless a hand- 
some fee is given, the personal attendance of the 
undertaker cannot be secured. Lots in first-class 
cemeteries are costly, and it is indispensable that a 
handsome and expensive monument of marble or 
granite should be erected over the grave. And 
besides all these expenses, mourning apparel is ab- 
solutely necessary; each member of the family of the 
deceased person, and all of his or her near relatives, 
must be clad in black, for in society, crape is both an 
indication and a measure of fashionable grief. These 
various items swell the bill for funeral expenses to an 
enormous aggregate. 

The undertakers' charges are very high. Rosewood 
caskets vary in price, according to the trimmings, from 
^90 to $150; those trimmed with black or blue velvet 



FASHIONABLE lUNERALS. 233 

are worth as much as $250, $300, and $400, or even 
more. A wooden casket, covered with cloth, costs 
5^125. Coffin handles are an additional expense ; eight 
handles are worth from ^10 to ^20, while full exten- 
sion handles, extending along both sides of the coffin, 
are worth ^30. Coffin plates of a variety of shapes — 
shields, crosses, square and oval — cost from ^i to ^12, 
includine eneravino-. 

The box in which the coffin is inclosed before it is 
placed in the grave costs ^5, and when this is taken to 
the cemetery in advance, in order that the beauty and 
richness of the casket may be seen through the glass 
plates of the open hearse, an additional charge of ^3.50 
is made. From ^9 to ^i 2 is charged for the use of the 
hearse, and the price of a carriage to Calvary Cemetery 
is ^6; to Greenwood, 5^7; and to Woodlawn, ^11. 
The charge for ice-coffins varies from ^12 to ^18. 
Scarfs are worth ^7 or ^8, and gloves for the pall-bear- 
ers cost $2.50 a pair. Shrouds are made of lawn or 
merino, and vary in price from ^3 to ^40. When a 
body is deposited in a vault, an engraved copper plate 
is usually procured, the price being about f,2. The 
personal attendance of an undertaker is worth from ^i 
to ^50, and porters to carry the coffin from the house 
to the hearse are paid $1.50 each ; if they also accom- 
pany the friends to the church, their services are worth 
$2.50 for each. For his services in opening the church, 
tolling the bell, and attending to his duties as usher, 
the sexton is paid from ^10 to ^20, and the choir and 
organist are paid from ^40 to ^50 for the funeral 
march and other music. The amount of money ex- 
pended for flowers is very large in many cases. Large 



234 NEW YORK. 

wreaths and crosses cost from ^5 to ^10, and large 
crowns from ^15 to ^20. It is not an unusual thing for 
from ^600 to ^800 to be expended in procuring and 
preserving flowers, and more than ^2000 has been spent 
for this purpose on the occasion of a single burial. 
Grief most generally expresses itself thus extravagantly 
in the cases of young widows of rich old husbands. 

The expenses which have been thus far enumerated 
include only those which enter into the undertaker's 
bill. At the cemetery the cost of a lot swells the 
expenditure, and it is no inconsiderable amount. At 
Greenwood each lot contains 378 square feet. Its 
form depends upon the surface of the ground, and may 
be circular, oval, oblong, square, or irregular. The 
situation determines the value; the prices vary generally 
from $500 to ^800, although some in specially desir- 
able places are valued at ^1000. Half, third, and 
.quarter lots are sold at $275, ^200, and $155 each and 
upward, according to situation. Entire lots of a quad- 
rangular form, fourteen feet by twenty-seven feet, 
admit fifteen graves each; half lots contain six graves, 
third lots four graves, and quarter lots three graves. 
At Woodlawn a somewhat different system is pursued. 
Ground in the cemetery is sold at prices ranging from 
80 cents to $2 a square foot, and the shape and size of 
lots vary with the extent of the purchase and the for- 
mation of the ground. Half lots, however, are sold 
for ^187.50 and ^120, according to situation, and 
quarter lots for $60. But in all cases where fractional 
lots are purchased, granite corner posts must be pro- 
cured, the prices for which are ^9 for half lots and ^4 
for quarter lots. 



FUNERAL EXPENSES. 235 

The ordinary depth of graves is six feet, although 
some are dug seven, eight, nine, and even ten feet in 
depth. The usual charge for opening a grave is ^5 for 
adults and $4. for children. At both Greenwood and 
Woodlawn the cost of an interment in the receivino- 
vault is ^25. If the body is removed in three months ^20 
will be returned, but it will be buried in a lot provided for 
that purpose if not removed in three months at Wood- 
lawn, and in six months at Greenwood. This rule was made 
because a few years ago the receiving tomb at Green- 
wood became overcrowded on account of the low charo-e 
for depositing a body in it. But as the demand 
increased, prices advanced, and the market naturally 
corrected itself precisely as demand and supply regu- 
late other markets. Single graves in either of these 
cemeteries can be procured for ^25, but at the Ceme- 
tery of the Evergreens, and at Cypress Hills, the price 
of a single grave is ^12. For opening a vault ^4 is 
charged at Greenwood, and ^3 at Woodlawn. In both 
these cemeteries a person who purchases but does not 
wish to use an entire lot, may sell a portion of it, but 
speculation and "corners" in lots are prevented by the 
fact that if an exorbitant price is demanded the pur- 
chaser will find it much cheaper to buy from the trustees 
of the cemetery than from an individual lot owner. At 
Woodlawn a receiving lot is provided for those who 
choose this method of sepulture in preference to the 
receiving tombs. The price of a grave in the receiv- 
ing lot is ^38 for an adult, and ^30 for a child. 

Another matter of expenditure closely connected 
with the funeral is the tombstone or monument. In 
these there is a countless variety in material and de- 



236 NEW YORK. 

sign, from the plain marble slab, entirely destitute of 
ornament, to the elegant and highly-polished shaft of 
Scotch granite. The material from which the majority 
of tombstones are made is Italian marble. The native 
American marble is not sufficiently firm to withstand 
exposure to the weather. Quincy granite is exten- 
sively used, as 1^ also the granite from Aberdeen, 
Scotland. In localities adjacent to quarries of brown- 
stone, that article is used for the construction of monu- 
ments, but it is objectionable, because it rapidly 
becomes covered with moss. Tombstones of marble 
can be obtained for ^15, and from this the prices range 
to $450. Occasionally as much as ^600 is paid for a 
tombstone, but generally when so large an amount 
as this is expended a monument is purchased. The 
tombstones are generally placed on a block of granite, 
and the foundation must be placed below the reach of 
frost. The price is affected by differences in the style 
of ornamentation, crosses, wreaths, anchors, urns, palls, 
and figures of many sorts being carved in the marble. 
A marble monument, fifteen feet in height, without any 
ornamentation, cannot be bought for less than $900. 
The price of monuments of Quincy granite is fifteen 
per cent, more than those of Italian marble, and Scotch 
granite is more costly still. The latter is greatly in 
demand, because of the high polish of which it is 
capable, but there is an ad valorem duty of twenty 
per cent, on it, which only the deepest grief consents 
to pay. !n the vicinity of New York there are monu- 
ments of Scotch granite which cost ^10,000, and a 
number of Quincy granite monuments varying in value 
from $500 to $20,000. The Cauda monument is made 



COST OF A FASHIONABLE FUNERAL. 237 

of Italian marble, and cost ^40,000. Vaults are also 
expensive. The prices of those in Greenwood and 
Woodlawn, and also in Calvary Cemetery, vary from 
^3000 to ^15,000, and there is one in Trinity Cemetery 
which cost ^50,000. 

From these facts the following schedule of the cost 
of a first-class funeral on the American plan may be 
adduced : 

I Rosewood coffin, lined with velvet, $300 

I Coffin-plate (name, and all the virtues engraved gratis), - - 12 

8 Full extension silver-plated handles, ----- 30 

I Coffin-box, to protect coffin, 8 

I Ice box (second-hand), ---.-.. 15 

I Shroud, -----25 

I Hearse, -- 10 

10 Coaches to Greenwood, ---70 

8 Pairs gloves to pall-bearers, -- 20 

8 Scarfs for pall-bearers and one for the door, - - - - 10 

I Undertaker's fee for personal attendance, - - - - 25 

4 Porters to carry out coffin, ------- 6 

I Sexton at church, - -..---.. 15 

I Organist and choir, 40 

Flowers, ---..----. 100 

I Lot in Greenwood, --------- 600 

I Grave-digger, .------.. 5 

I Monument, home manufacture, of Ouincy granite, - - - goo 

Total, $2191 

Well, after all, the power of money, the might of 
fashion, cease at the grave. Beyond that dreary portal 
to the unknown world — ; but society does not bother 
its head about these things. 

After the funeral is over, none of the feminine be- 
reaved ones can be seen for a certain length of time, the 
period of their seclusion being fixed by a rigid law. 



238 NEW YORK, 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE STREET RAILWAYS. 

fHE PRESE>rr STREET-RA11.WAY SYSTEM — IMMENSE BUSINESS DONE BY THE SURFACE ROADS^ 
EXPENSES AND RECEIPTS — HOW THE ELEVATED ROADS HAVE AFFECTED THE HORSE RATL- 
WAYS — DISCOMFORTS OF THE STREET CARS — THE CONDCCTORS AND DRIVERS — STORY OF A 
conductor's UDT — HARD WORK AND POOR PAY — KNOCKING DOWN — HOW IT IS DONE — BEAT- 
ING THE BELL-PCNCH. 

There are thirty-two lines of street (or surface) rail- 
ways traversing New York. Their general direction is 
either from south to north, or across the Island from 
east to west. The fare, on all the lines but two, is five 
cents. On the Madison avenue line it is six cents, and 
on the short line, from Vesey street to the South Ferr)-, 
three cents. Notwithstanding the enormous patronage 
of the Elevated roads, the surface railways are still 
liberally supported. Many people have a ner\-ous 
dread of the aerial structures of which New York is 
so proud, and remain faithful to the horse cars ; and 
for those who wish to ride short distances only, the 
surface roads are the most useful. Then, ao^ain, dur- 
ino- the hours when the fare on " The Elevated" is ten 
cents, many persons, with whom time is not an object, 
use the horse cars to save the extra half-d*me. The 
peculiar shape of the city renders it possible for all the 
various modes of travel — the Elevated, the surface 
roads, and the stages — to be operated with profit. The 
majority of the lines run from south to north, and 
centre in the neighborhood of the Post Office. Before 
the construction of the Elevated roads, the travel on the 



EXPENSES OF STREET RAILROADS. 239 

Street cars was enormous ; the companies earned fabu- 
lous sums ; and the stockholders received dividends 
the true amount of which could rarely be ascertained. 
It was known that they were extraordinarily large. In 
1875, the year before the successful completion of the 
Elevated roads, the street cars carried over one hun- 
dred and sixty million passengers. Over 1500 cars 
and more than 12,000 horses were employed in this 
work, and the cost of operating the 450 miles of track 
included within the city limits, was ^6,500,000. At an 
average of five cents per passenger, the receipts of the 
roads were estimated at over ^8,000,000. The receipts 
of the Third avenue road alone were ^1,666,000, of 
which ^300,000 was clear profit. 

There are many expenses attached to street rail- 
roads that travelers are not aware of. In addition to 
the wages of conductors and drivers, there is the out- 
lay for ofifices, clerks, watchmen, starters, switchmen, 
changers for changing the horses at the termini, fore- 
men of stables and stablemen, feed men, washers, 
horse shoers, blacksmiths, carpenters, painters, road and 
track men, and others. To pay all these, more than 
one-half of the amount set down for operating the road 
is expended. The feed of the horses requires nearly 
a quarter of the total amount, while large sums are an- 
nually expended on fuel, gas, lights for cars, oil for 
wheels, waste, the water tax, and other expenses. 
Damages and law suits for accidents amount on the 
average to over one per cent, on the gross receipts, 
and insurance costs three-fourths of one per cent, 
more. The expense of removing snow and ice is con- 
siderable every year, aggregating about ^100,000 for 



240 NEW YORK. 

the season, if favorable, and often requiring double 
that amount of money. The clearing of the snow from 
about half a mile of track during one winter cost the 
Dry Dock Company nearly ^2000. The average cost 
of cars is about ^900, and of horses about $150. A 
car rarely lasts more than three years, the cost of re- 
pairing amounting to nearly the original outlay in that 
time. The average life of a railroad horse is about 
five years, and very often several horses will be in hos- 
pital at a time, disease or accident rendering them 
unfit for duty. Horses have often been lamed by sew- 
ing-machine needles and hoop-skirts, which were left 
on the track. In times of epidemic disease among 
horses, the largfe numbers that are conofreofated in rail- 
road stables cause it to spread rapidly, and to prevent 
the regular running of the cars. These are only a few 
of the many difficulties which the managers of street 
railroads must meet. The open or excursion cars 
have to be in the storehouse about seven months of 
the year, as they can only be used during the warm 
months. About one-fifth of the entire stock of cars is 
idle during the whole year. The cost of shoeing horses 
is also an important matter of expense, aggregating for 
all the roads in the city over ^500,000 per year. The 
number of nails used in shoeing amounts annually to 
hundreds of millions. 

Since the opening of the Elevated roads the receipts 
and profits of the leading surface lines have been 
greatly reduced, but still all continue to be operated at 
a profit, and some of the horse roads which run along 
the streets occupied by their aerial rivals are begin- 
ning to experience a return of their old prosperity. 



DIRTY HORSE CARS, 



241 



As a rule, the horse-cars are not nice. Some of the 
lines run clean and handsome cars, but the majority 
of these vehicles are dirty, badly ventilated, and full of 
vermin. In the winter the tioor is covered with straw, 
as a protection from the cold ; but this soon becomes 
foul, and constitutes an intolerable nuisance. 

All sorts of people are met on the street cars, and a 
crowded car is a favorite place for pickpockets to ply 
their trade. These generally w^ork in parties of two 
or three, to render detection difficult and escape easy. 




THE THIRD AVENUE DEPOT. 



The drivers and conductors are often brutal wretches, 
and insult and maltreat their passengers in a manner 
that would be incredible, were not the facts so well 
attested. Many, on the other hand, are honest and 
courteous. All are overworked and poorly paid. 
They are on duty about fifteen or sixteen hours out of 
twenty-four, and have no holidays, unless they choose 
to forfeit a day's pay. The drivers receive from ,$2.25 
to $2.75, and the conductors from ^2 to $2.50 per diem. 

16 



242 NEW YORK. 

The lot of a horse car conductor Is a peculiar one, 
and his life stands apart from that of most men. While 
there is considerable monotony about It — and to 
the outsider who sees only the bell-punch and the bell- 
rope It seems all monotony — it is, after all, a decidedly 
novel career. The conductor has his joys and sorrows; 
his life Is made up of shadow and sunshine, and humor 
and pathos mark the round of his daily duties, as Is the 
case with all of us. The story of one conductor is very 
much the story of all. While they fare better on some 
lines and worse on others, take them right through and 
the narrative has but slight variation. Jump on any 
car and talk with any of them, and the similarity 
of their circumstances strikes you at once. The story 
told by one of them not long since Is the story of all, 
and his epitome of his accustomed association Is an 
epitome of them all. It was told amid the roar of the 
street and the jingle of the bells; It was Interrupted by 
passengers and the collection of fares; It w^as renewed 
while waiting at the depot, but taken as a whole it was 
somewhat as follows: — 

"You want a sort of running account of my daily 
work and what Is required of us when we first go on 
the road? Well, we have to furnish our suits. 
If it is summer time the suit costs us from ^14 to ^16, 
while the winter apparel is worth several dollars more. 
Then we have to procure an overcoat, and some of us 
are required to make a deposit on the bell-punch. Of 
course that Is repaid us whenever we leave. Then we 
must have a watch, and one that will keep good time. 
We have to regulate our watches by the large clock in 
the depot, and any variation makes it all the more difh- 



A conductor's lot is not a happy one. 243 

cult for us to run on time. Our clothes must be kept 
clean, and we are expected always to present a neat 
appearance and get down to the depot in the morning 
about five minutes before our car starts. The mats, 
which I took up the night before and which the driver 
has shaken, 1 put in their places. And just here let me 
say that we are compelled to keep our car clean and 
have the windows washed whenever they need it. 1 
sweep out the car the last thing at night and before 
running in with the other cars, in order to avoid scatter- 
ing dust over them. I am supposed to have full con- 
trol over the car, and the driver is, to a certain extent, 
under me. If there is any trouble between us we can 
make it unpleasant for each other, but I have the privi- 
lege to report any misconduct or disobedience, and the 
conductor is generally sustained. 

"Before startinof out I take a certain amount In 
change, which is charged against me by the cashier. 
Some men turn their cash in at the end of each trip, 
but most of us wait until night, and hand the account 
for the entire day in at once. At the close of every 
trip I make out my report, specifying on this card the 
amount. As a general thing, my account comes out 
square, but once in a while I find myself out a few cents. 
It is rare that I find a surplus in my favor. Occasion- 
ally I will give too litde change, or mistake one of those 
twenty-cent pieces for a quarter, thus cheating the 
passenger, but usually the other way. For a long time 
we were sold on those twenty-cent coins, and learned to 
be cautious. Then once in awhile, when the car 
is full and we are making change rapidly, a three-cent 
piece or one of those small half-dimes will get in between 



244 NEW YORK. 

Other change which we hand to a passenger. Of course 
we are 'docked' in those cases. The same way with 
counterfeit money — we have to run the risk and bear 
the loss. I sfot stuck on a five dollar note not lonof 
ago. The receiver handed it back to me the next day 
and charged me with it. I had to get rid of it as best 
I could. They are pretty lenient with us, however, 
and we do not often suffer. 

"There is a difference as to the time given for meals 
and stops by the lines. I have about two minutes at 
the lower end of the trip and from seven to fourteen 
at the upper. In the evening we get from fifteen to 
twenty. About fifteen minutes is allowed us for meals — 
that is, we have that time between trips at noon and 
niofht, but if we are behind time that is taken off and 
we have so much less to eat in. We generally manage 
to have full time, however, for eating. Our meals are 
brought us by our children or wives, and are placed in 
the conductors' room at the depot. Some of the men 
live close enougrh to run home and eet a bite. We 
get very little time to see our families, I tell you, except 
when we get our day off. Some of the roads let you 
have whatever day you ask for, and supply your place 
with one of the extras. An "extra" is a man who is 
substituted, and generally has been taken off the regular 
force for disobeying orders. Slight disobedience, such 
as neglect to clean your car, often places you on the 
extra list, while gross carelessness will discharge you. 
You get no pay on your holidays, while you are paid 
from ^2.00 to $2.50 a day while on duty. The "trip- 
pers," as those men are called who on!)' run three- 
quarters of a day, get $1.50. I know the pay is not so 



LIFE OF A CAR CONDUCTOR. 245 

poor, compared with many other occupations, but then 
we have so Httle time to ourselves, or for sleep. I only 
get five hours a day sleep, and I am terribly tired when 
the work is over. It is very hard to awaken me in the 
morning, so soundly do I sleep. All the chance we get 
to sit down is between trips or on this board seat, 
which we pay for ourselves, and that is not over com- 
fortable, as you can see. 

"Our life is pretty monotonous, and yet all sorts of 
scenes occur to give it variety. If it was not for that, 
I could not stand it, and so most of the men say. We 
have all kinds of people, and articles of every descrip- 
tion travel with us. The washerwoman gets on with 
her basket of clothes; the tailor brings in a bundle; 
the emigrant rides with a big bag or small trunk; the 
lady has a dozen small packages, and the caterer car- 
ries dainties for a party. Now and then a funny thing 
happens that sets the car in a roar of laughter. A 
man got in the morning after the election in Indiana 
and Ohio and purchased a paper. When he read the 
result, he rolled the paper up and fired it the length ol 
the car, narrowly missing a dozen heads and striking a 
small boy with a pail of milk here on the platform. A 
German got on board the other day, who could not 
speak a word of English. Fortunately, I understand 
German a little, and was able to make out that he 
wanted to get out at Twenty-second street. When we 
reached there I told him, putdng my hand up to pull 
the bell, as he had several immense bundles. He shook 
his head and drew my hand back, so we went on. I 
tried to find out what he meant, but he laughed and 
said nothing. Suddenly, when we were moving quite 



246 NEW YORK. 

fast, he gathered up his luggage, shook hands with me, 
and before I could comprehend his movements, jumped 
off. He turned over and over, his bundles flew in 
every direction and his hat rolled into the gutter. At 
first I thought he was hurt, but he sat up in the street, 
kissed his hand to me, and laughed loud enough to be 
heard a block off. 

"We conductors have our annoyances also. It is 
hard to tell who worry us the most, but I guess the 
women do. Some of them are so nervous and fidgety, 
never knowing where they want to go, and asking 
every minute if we have reached there. They get out 
on the platform before the car stops, and often have to 
be held back from jumping off. They start out to shop 
sometimes, and forget their purses. After riding a 
block or two they suddenly discover the lack of money, 
and either declare there are pickpockets in the car or 
else are in tribulation lest we will put them off right 
away. On rainy days we have to raise their umbrellas 
and wait for them to get their dresses adjusted. Then 
those of them who go marketing bring huge baskets, 
which we have to lift on and off. Still, we ought to be 
courteous, and I think most of us are, though the ladies 
do not often take the pains to thank us for any extra 
attention. The worst lot we have to deal with are the 
young clerks and store boys, who ride regularly back 
and forth from business. They put on any quantity 
of airs and try to occupy the entire car. One of them 
always sits out here on my seat, even thouo-h there is 
plenty of room inside. They smoke when they 
shouldn't, and then want to know when the rule was 
made prohibiting it. They get in the way, josde the 



THE WOES OF A CONDUCTOR. 247 

Other passengers, declare we do not give them the 
riirht chantre, and make themselves disasireeable o-en- 
erally. The newsboys are forbidden on many of the 
cars after nine o'clock in the morning, yet persist in 
jumping on after that time. The small boy steals a 
ride while we are forward in the car, and rainy days 
we get thoroughly drenched, particularly if the storm 
beats down the street. Only now and then are we 
able to stand inside and avoid the wet. Then we have 
the chronic grumblers — men and women — who want 
the windows up and down at the same time. We put 
them up, and some lady begins to shiver and some man 
turns up his coat-collar and looks daggers at us ; we 
put them down, and at once there are complaints that 
the air is stifling. Then there are those who annoy us 
by charging that they left articles in the cars, very 
valuable in most cases, which we have taken, but which, 
strange to say, are generally found at home or in some 
store. I might mention the drunken characters and 
the noisy ones who ride with us, but the list I have 
named embraces the majority of troublesome persons. 
" We cannot complain generally of bad treatment by 
the companies. They relieve us when we are sick, al- 
low us a day to ourselves, and pay what they promise. 
Many of us are sorry we ever took the position, for an 
entirely different reason, and that is, that the place is 
regarded as a degrading one by so many, and we are 
excluded socially because of our occupation. Some 
of us are of good families, but the hard times compelled 
us to do anything that would secure us a competence 
and was not actually disreputable. Yet we are mosdy 
looked down upon." 



248 NEW YORK. 

The practice of "knocking down" is carried on very 
extensively on the horse car Hnes, and the companies 
suffer heavily by it. They take every precaution to 
secure good men, and have a thorough system of 
espionage at work to detect and stop the dishonest 
practice. Their spies are constantly traveling over the 
road and note the number of passengers carried on 
the cars they are appointed to watch, and when the 
conductor's report is handed in, they examine it, and 
report any inaccuracies. The conductor, it is said, 
often divides the stolen money with the spy, or ''spot- 
ter," as he is called, and thus secures his silence. He 
has also to buy the driver's co-operation, and this costs 
him from ^i to ^2 a day, and the driver has to pay the 
stablemen for a similar purpose. Even the bell punch 
fails to put a stop to the nefarious practice. Some 
time ago, coming down town on a car of one oi the 
principal lines, a gentleman asked the driver after a 
conductor who formerly had charge of the car, and was 
a very popular man with the passengers on the road. 

"Where is he now?" asked the gentleman. 

"Discharged." 

"What for?" 

"Stealing," answered the driver, with complacency. 
"They don't keep a conductor a minute after they 
catch him at it." 

"But I thought they had put a stop to that sort of 
thinor." 

"Bah! they can't stop it, and on a quiet road like 
this, it's worse than on the big roads. Half the con- 
ductors on this line make $2> ^^ $4 ^ ^^Y above their 
wages. I know it, because I watch 'em. When a 



BEATING THE BELL PUNCH. 249 

conductor gives a driver ^i a day, you can bet he has 
made three times as much. The bell punches, eh? 
They're no good. I'll tell you how it's done, and you 
can see it yourself if you watch. Suppose a man got 
off the rear platform just as you got on here. The 
conductor takes your fare and don't mark it on the 
punch. If there is a "counter" on the car at the time, 
the conductor knows it and he marks the fare. He 
gets to know most of 'em. But if he took your fare, as 
I said, and a counter got on afterward, the counter 
would not find out anything. There would be as 
many passengers in the car as the punch indicated, 
and that's the only thing the conductors have to look 
out for. Oh! it's easy enough when you know how 
to do it. Git up there!" 



250 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

SIXTH AVENUE. 

RAPID ADVANCE OP SIXTH AVENUE IN rROSPEKITV — DESCRIPTION OP THE STREET — THE LOWER 
PORTION — THE TENEMENT HOUSES — FRENCH FLATS — THE ELEVATED RAILROAD AND IIS 
STATIONS — A BUSY SCENE— SIXTH-AVENUE STORES — "MACEY's" — THE JEI'I'KRSON MARKET 
POLICE COURT — booth's THEATRE — THE MASONIC TEMPLE — " THE TABERNACLE" — SIXTH 
AVENUE BY NIGHT — A CHANGE OF SCENE — THE STREET-WALKERS — BRAZEN VICE — THE 
FRENCH WOMEN— SNARING A VICTIM — SHAMEFUL SCENES ON THE AVENUE — THE STREET A 
TERROR TO DECENT PEOPLE — THE ROUGHS — SIXTH-AVENUE OYSTER HOUSES AND BEER SA- 
LOONS — SCENE IN A FLASH SALOON — A YOUTHFUL CRIMINAL — THE DETECTIVE'S PRIZE — 
SIXTH AVENUE AFTER MIDNIGHT — A DRUNKEN SINGER — " IN THE SWEET BYE-AND-BYE " — 
NO EFFORT MADE TO CHECK THE EVIL. 

Of late years Sixth avenue has come prominently 
before the public as one of the most noted streets of 
the great city. It commences at the northern end of 
Carmine street, and runs northward to 59th street. At 
this point it is broken by the Central Park, but com- 
mences ae^ain at iioth street, the northern boundary 
of the Park, and pursues its northward course to the 
Harlem River, It is traversed from its southern ex- 
tremity to the Park by the Metropolitan Elevated Rail- 
road, and below the arcade formed by this structure 
run the horse-cars of the Sixth- Avenue Railroad Com- 
pany, the northern terminus of which is 59th street. 
The avenue is solidly built up below the Park, and 
ranks next to Broadway as a business street, being 
devoted to the retail trade. In the lower part are a 
number of tenement-houses, but above 34th street the 
upper floors of the buildings are laid off in " P>ench 
flats," some of which are elegant and stylish. For 
miles on both sides of the street are handsome retail 
stores, some of which are elegant and extensive enough 



FEATURES OF SIXTH AVENUE. 251 

to merit a place on Broadway. The sidewalks are al- 
ways filled with throngs of purchasers, drawn here by 
the fine display of goods and the prevailing belief that 
Sixth avenue prices are lower than those of Broadway. 
All through the day the street is bright and lively, and 
the rapid passage of the trains on the Elevated rail- 
road overhead adds greatly to the interest of the 
scene. At 14th street is one of the handsomest sta- 
tions of the Elevated road, and on the corners of this 
street and the avenue are '* Macey's" and several other 
popular stores. "Macey's" is a world in itself, the 
most perfect Noah's ark in the land. You can find in 
it everything, from the simplest toys for children to 
dress goods of the most costly kind. The crowd at 
this part of the avenue is always greatest, and is gen- 
erally composed of richly and fashionably-attired ladies 
and children ; and both streets are frequently almost 
blocked by the long lines of elegant carriages standing 
in them and awaiting their owners. 

Several handsome buildings front on Sixth avenue. 
The first of these is the Jefferson Market Police Court, 
a new and unique edifice, constructed of red brick, 
with sandstone trimmings, in the Italian Gothic style. 
It is one of the most noted edifices in New York, and 
stands on the site of one of the most disgraceful rook- 
eries that ever shamed the metropolis. On the south- 
east corner of 23d street is a noble edifice, built of 
Concord granite, in the rennaissance style. This is 
the superb theatre, built twelve years ago by Edwin 
Booth, as a fitting house for the drama in New York. 
It is still known as Booth's Theatre. Immediately op- 
posite, on the northeast corner of 23d street, is the Ma- 



252 



NEW YORK. 



sonic Temple, also built of granite, and one of the most 
elegant and tasteful buildings in the city. At the 
northeast corner of 34th street is the Tabernacle Bap- 
tist Church, a handsome edifice of brownstone. Be- 
tween 40th and 42 d streets, on the east side of the 
avenue, is Reservoir Park, a charming enclosure occu- 
pying the site of the famous Crystal Palace, which was 
destroyed by fire nearly thirty years ago. 




MASONIC TEMPLE, SIXTH AVENUE AND 23D SIKKET. 

When the darkness settles down over the city, and 
the lamps flare out along the street, and the broad rays 
of light stream brightly into the open air from the 
stores, restaurants, and saloons, Sixth avenue under- 
goes a transformation. All day it has been crowded 
with the best of New York's people, intent upon hon- 
est business. Now the crowd is almost as great, but 
it is of a different character. The larger, and better 
class stores are closed ; only the smaller retail shops, 



SIXTH AVENUE STREET WALKERS. 253 

the drug stores, the saloons, restaurants, and tobacco- 
nists remain open, but these are numerous enough to 
give a brilhant coloring to the street with their bright 
lights and elaborately-decorated windows. The many- 
colored lights of the stations of the Elevated Railroad 
lend another attractive feature to the scene, and the 
whirl and roar of the brilliantly-illuminated trains, as 
they whiz by overhead, give to the street an air of life 
and bustle in keeping with the movements of the crowd 
on the sidewalk below. 

Among the promenaders are scores of young women, 
flashily dressed, with bold, brazen faces, plentifully cov- 
ered with rouge and enamel, which show plainly under 
the bright glare of the gas-lamps. They are simply 
street-walkers, of the worst class, and are boldly plying 
their trade in the very faces of the police. They do 
not conduct themselves here with the outward pro- 
priety they are forced to assume on Broadway, but are 
loud-voiced and foul-tongued. They do not hesitate to 
accost men, and too often succeed in inducing them to 
accompany them to one of the dance-houses, or " gar- 
dens," which abound in the side streets, and in whose 
pay these women are. Once there, the wretched vic- 
tim is asked to treat, and begins a course of hard 
drinking with the girl, who, on her part, manages to 
drink but little, and this is kept up until he is in fit 
condition for her to lead him further on into the depths 
of sin, and perhaps to robbery and death. It is but a 
step from the dance-hall to one of the vile dens, where 
certain robbery, and perhaps violence, awaits the vic- 
tim ; and the girl is an old hand at her trade. 

Many of these women are French, and can scarcely 



254 ' NEW YORK. 

speak English at all ; yet, strange to say, they are 
among the most successful in the practice of their aban- 
doned calling. They know enough, however, to say, 
"You come wiz me, my love;" "You treat me ;" "I 
take a leetle beer ;" " Fife dollar," and similar phrases. 
Some of the women have reputable employments 
during the day, but these pay them beggarly wages, 
and they supply their wants by resorting to their hor- 
rid trade by night. Of late years they have become so 
numerous on the avenue that decent people, especially 
females, cannot venture on the street unless accom- 
panied by a male protector. Even then they are in 
constant hearing of vile oaths and foul expressions 
from the lips of members of their own sex. Should a 
woman, unaccompanied by a man, attempt to pass 
along the avenue between 14th and 34th streets, after 
night, she is almost sure to be insulted by some of the 
ruffians who parade the street, hang around the bar- 
rooms, or stand on the corners, and who are hand and 
glove with the street-walkers. You see them stand in 
groups around a party of abandoned women on the 
sidewalk, exchanging ribald jests with them, and should 
you pause to listen, you would hear words spoken 
openly and loudly that would make your ears tingle. 

All along the avenue are saloons of more than doubt- 
ful character, and oyster-houses in which no decent 
person ever sets foot. These are favorite resorts with 
the street-walkers and their companions, and rallying 
places for the ruffians that lend the girls their protec- 
tion and live upon the wretched earnings of the 
women. In these resorts, says a writer in the Police 
Gazette, " vou see the rough, intoxicated elements of 



ON THE ROAD TO RUIN. 255 

Sixth avenue. Girls lounge about in the midst of the 
smoke ; do not hesitate to sit on the laps of gentlemen, 
and are always ready for one of the foaming glasses 
of beer which are pyramidally carried about by the 
ubiquitous waiters. There are many young men being 
ruined here. While we look on, an episode occurs 
that illuminates the whole subject as a flash of lightning 
does a gloomy wood. 

" At one of the tables has been sittinor with two o-irls 
of the town, a handsome boy of about eighteen years. 
The rose of health is still on his cheek, and, al thou eh 
the gin and water he has been drinking have given his 
eyes a false lustre, you can easily see that he hasn't 
gone far on the road. His vital organs are healthy. 
How about his moral tone ? 

" Directly back of him sits a silent and apparently 
abstracted individual, who has gone to such depths in 
a brown study that the glass of beer before him is as 
yet untasted, although it has been there ten minutes. 

" The youth gives the waiter a twenty-dollar bill, and 
his companions exchange glances. Just as the proprie- 
tor thrusts it into the drawer, the detective — for the 
abstracted man is none other — reaches over the bar, 
utters a few words, and takes the note and examines 
it. His suspicions are correct. It is a marked bill, 
marked that day in the down-town office where the 
unfortunate boy is employed. It is quite a tableau when 
the arrest is niade. He turns pale as a ghost, and then 
goes out with an attempt at bravery and carelessness 
that is pitiable to behold. As for the women, in ten 
minutes they are drinking more beer, at the expense 
of some one else. 



256 NEW YORK. 

" At about two A. "M. the avenue is not so crowded 
as at midnight, but its Hfe is more intense. The old 
•Argyle Rooms,' 'Cremorne,' and 'Buckingham' have 
vomited forth their crowds of dancers. They flood the 
oyster saloons, and fill the beer shops with the rusde 
of silken skirts. 

" In one beer saloon a negro band is in full blast. 
When they stop to pass around the hat, a tipsy young 
woman, bantered to it by her companions, goes to the 
piano and sings, * In the Sweet Bye-and-Bye.' It is a 
strange,*sad scene. She is handsome, but undeniably 
drunk. Her hair is disheveled. As she sings, being 
at the maudlin state of drinking, the song overmasters 
her with its pathos, and she breaks off abruptly and 
begins to cry. 

"At this the 'lovers,' petty gamblers, and 'strikers' 
gradually break into a coarse laugh. The poor girl 
falls, sobbing, with her head on the table, robbed even 
of the sympathy of her drunken companions, while the 
'nigger' band squares matters with the audience by 
giving 'I've Just Been Down to the Club, Dear.'" 

These wretched scenes last until " the wee sma' 
hours" of the morning. Then there is a brief period 
of silence and darkness in the avenue, and with the 
dawning day all signs of sin and vice have disap- 
peared. Sixth avenue puts on its respectable dress, 
and until sunset devotes itself to legitimate and reput- 
able business. The avenue is strongly policed, both 
day and night, yet the "cops" have neither eyes for 
the shameful sights nor ears for the vile sounds we 
have described. The city authorities are perfectly 
aware of the character of the street, and the business 



APATHY OF THE AUTHORITIES. 257 

of Its promenaders by night, but they make no effort 
to correct the evil. The ruffians who stand behind the 
street-walkers as " backers," and who live upon their 
wretched gains, have political influence, and can com- 
mand votes. Therefore the municipal authorities stand 
aloof. They are afraid to touch the fearful sore. 
Their interference might lose votes for their party, and 
so they permit one of the best and most attractive 
thoroughfares of the Metropolis to remain the " stamp- 
ing ground" of vice and crime. 



17 



258 NEW YORK. 

CHAPTER XV. 

COACHING DAY. 

MEMORIES OF BYGONE DAYS — STAGE COACHING IN FORMER YEARS — REVIVAL OP COACHING IN NEW 
YORK — COLONEL KANe's ENTERPRISE — THE " TALLY HO " — A HANDSOME SUCCESS — SOCIETY 
ADOPTS COACHING AS THE" CORRECT THING " — THECOACHING CLUB ORGANIZED— COACHING 
DAY — THE ANNUAL PARADE — A BRILLIANT SIGHT. 

Many of the readers of these pages will remember 
the old fashioned stage coach, which, before the advent 
of the railways, was the sole means of travel between 
the various parts of the country. It had its disadvan- 
tages, but its pleasures were also numerous and decided. 
The time was slow, the company small, and the road 
often rough and tedious, but the pcssengers were gen- 
erally sociable, and on long journeys pleasant acquaint- 
ances were made and lasting friendships often formed. 
The very slowness of the ponderous vehicle gave one 
an opportunity of enjoying to the utmost the beautiful 
scenery through which the route lay. And the inns at 
which the coach stopped for meals, what delightful, 
rambling old structures they were, and what tempting 
repasts they spread for the hungry passengers, with 
the hearty old landlord hovering about the table to see 
that his guests were well supplied and comfortable. 
Then the traveler was not worried out of his life by the 
announcement "twenty minutes for refreshments," and 
did not have to choke down a few mouthfuls of badly 
cooked eatables, with a certainty of tlie horrors of dys- 
pepsia looming up before him ; but instead he had 
abundant time to do justice to a repast fit for a prince, 



REVIVAL OF COACHING. . 259 

nicely and cleanly served, and could resume his place 
in the coach with a tranquil mind and a full stomach, 
and be prepared to enjoy at his ease the ride through 
the clear, fresh air and the smiling country. Well, 
they have all passed away, the coaches, the inns, the 
landlords, and the square meals. The iron horse and 
the railway restaurant have taken their places. Yet 
those who have enjoyed the pleasures of the past look 
back at them regretfully, and wonder, with a sigh, if we 
are any more comfortable, after all, than we were in 
those slow, old fashioned days. 

Of late years New York fashionable society has 
undertaken to revive in some measure the memories 
of the past, and the result of the effort is seen in the 
" Coaching Club," whose annual parade is one of the 
sights of the great city, and an eagerly anticipated and 
much enjoyed feature of fashionable life. 

The Coaching Club owes its existence to Colonel 
Delancey Kane, a New York gentleman of wealth. It 
has long been the "style" in London for the young 
gentlemen of the aristocracy to kill a part of the time 
that hangs so heavily on their hands, by becoming 
amateur Jehus, and driving four-in-hand coaches from 
designated points in the city to fixed destinations in the 
country. They carry passengers and parcels over the 
route at the regular coach fares, and as a rule manao^e 
to reap a neat little sum, as well as to extract a great 
deal of pleasure from the performance. 

In 1875 Colonel Delancey Kane, being in the British 
Metropolis, adopted the practice of his "high-toned" 
associates, and during the summer of that year drove a 
coach regularly from London to Windsor Forest. 



260 NEW YORK. 

Returning home, he resolved to introduce the practice 
into New York, and thus become a benefactor of so- 
ciety by giving it a new sensation. Accordingly, in 
the summer of 1876, the "Tally-Ho," the first four-in- 
hand coach, made its appearance in Fifth avenue, with 
Colonel Kane, its owner, as driver. It was imported 
from London, and was elegant and luxurious. Promptly 
at eleven o'clock in the morning the "Tally-Ho" 
started from the Hotel Brunswick, at Fifth avenue and 
Madison Square, and took the route up the avenue to 
59th street, through the Central Park, thence to Mc- 
Court's Dam Bridge, over the Harlem River to the 
mainland, and from that point to Pelham Bridge, in 
Westchester County, which was reached promptly at 
one o'clock. At half past three the return trip began, 
over the same route, and at five the coach drew up be- 
fore the Hotel Brunswick. The fare for the round 
trip was three dollars, with an extra charge of fifty 
cents each way for a seat on the box. Passengers' 
luggage, up to eighty-five pounds, was carried free. 
Parcels were taken at moderate rates, and were deliv- 
ered with care and punctuality. The fares for inter- 
mediate distances were at proportionate rates, and the 
coach took up and set down passengers and parcels 
at any point except between Madison Square and the 
Central Park. The route lay through a delightful 
country, abounding in picturesque scenery, and the 
drive was highly enjoyable. 

The "Tally-Ho" was a success from the start. 
Fashionable society greeted it heartily as a new diver- 
sion, and patronized it liberally. Every day it was 
filled with parties of gayly-dressed ladies and gende- 



THE COACHING CLUB, 261 

men, representing the greatest wealth and the highest 
society of the city. Drawn by four magnihcent brown 
steeds, the cOach rattled along the avenue, through the 
Park, and over the pleasant country roads, and its oc- 
cupants, in the highest spirits, found the drive all too 
short for their pleasure. It became the correct thing 
to ride on the " Tally-Ho," and its proprietor was liter- 
ally besieged by applications for places. Seats were 
engaged weeks in advance, and the season proved not 
only a brilliant one from a fashionable standpoint, but 
a very handsome financial success for its projector. 

The success of Colonel Kane encouraged other gen- 
tlemen of wealth and fashion to attempt the same 
thino-, and soon a number of four-in-hand coaches were 
to be seen bowling through the streets, the ribbons in 
the hands of " swells " who had never before known 
harder labor than treading the mazes of the German. 
or handlinor a billiard-cue. Four-in-hand driving be- 
came quite the rage, and in 1876 the owners of the 
coaches organized the "Coaching Club," which at pres- 
ent has a membership of twenty-six, representing 
twenty-one coaches. 

The club is made up principally of young men of 
wealth and fashion. No one is eligible for membership 
unless he is the owner of at least one-fourth of a coach, 
or " draof," as the vehicle is called. Candidates must 
be proposed and seconded by two members of the 
club, and voted for by sealed ballot. One negative 
ballot in ten excludes. The club is very careful as to 
the admission of new members, for Plutus is the ruling 
divinity here. 

The members of the club are uniformed. The dress 



262 NEW YORK. 

consists of a dark-green cut-away coat, with brass but- 
tons, and a yellow, striped waistcoat. Pants are ad 
libitum, though generally they are like the coat in color, 
but a high white hat is the " tip of the style." The 
evening dress is of the same materials and colors, cut 
like the conventional evening dress. The annual dues 
are ten dollars, and the ostensible object of the club 
is to " encourage four-in-hand driving." 

The annual parade of the club is held on the last 
Saturday in May, and is known in society as " Coach- 
ing Day," It calls forth a general turnout of the fash- 
ionables, and the scene along the avenue and at the 
entrance to the Park is brilliant and interesting. The 
"meet" is always at the Hotel Brunswick, which is 
gayly decorated for the occasion. The coaches are 
drawn up in line, led by the " turn-out" of the president 
of the club, and the route is up Fifth avenue to 59th 
street; through the Park to Mount St. Vincent; back 
to the avenue ; down that street to Washington Square, 
and then along the avenue again to the Hotel Bruns- 
wick; where the parade is dismissed. Then follows 
the annual club dinner at the hotel. The avenue and 
Park drives are lined with carriages and equestrians, 
and the windows of the mansions along the route are 
filled with brio-ht and smiling faces. The fashionable 
vv^orld is out in all its strength, and is reinforced by 
crowds of dwellers in the less select circles of the city. 
The throng is so great, that along the entire route the 
procession is obliged to pursue a slow and stately 
pace. This enables the richly-draped ladies who fill 
the seats of the "drags" to show their millinery to 
greater advantage. Care is taken by the fair riders 



264 NEW YORK. 

to make the colors of their dresses harmonize with the 
prevaiHng tints of the coaches, and each turn-out, as it 
flashes by, is a study in form, color, and grace of 
movement. The avenue and the Park drives at such 
times are musical with the lone-drawn notes of the 
horns of the outriders of the coaches, and the clear, 
soft sky of the May afternoon gives a glow to the 
scene that greatly heightens its beauty. 

"Truly "Coaching' Day" is an enjoyable occasion, 
both to those who take part in the performance and 
to the lookers-on. Colonel Kane well deserves the 
thanks of society for his efforts, for he has not only 
given it a new sensation, but a healthful and innocent 
pleasure. 

During the season the "drags" may be seen daily 
on the avenue, or in the Park, and at the races they 
form a prominent feature of the scene. 



MADISON AVENUE. 265 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE STREETS OF NEW YORK. 

MADISON AVENUE — MILES OF BROWN STONE — PARK AVENUE — LEXINGTON AVENUE — THIRTY- 
FOURTH AND FIFTY-SEVENTH STREETS — MAGNIFICENT RESIDENCES — THIRD AVENUE THE 
GREAT HIGHWAY OF THE EAST SIDE — EIGHTH AVENUE THE SMALL TRADERS* PARADISE — THE 
SATURDAY NIGHT MARKET — TWENTY-THIRD AND FOURTEENTH STREETS — DISAPPEARANCE OF 
LANDMARKS — CHANGES IN THE CHARACTER OF THE STREETS — A GLANCE AT TWENTY-THIRD 
STREET TO-DAY — "THE BEGGARS' PARADISE " — STREET CHARACTERS — A YOUNG IMPOSTOR — 
KICKED FROM A HORSE CAR INTO A HOME — BLEECKER STREET — LIFE IN BOHEMIA — A STREET 

WHERE NO QUESTIONS ARE ASKED GRAND STREET — CHATHAM STREET — THE CHILDREN OF 

ISRAEL AND THEIR WAYS — FULTON STREET — NASSAU STREET — A CROWDED NEIGHBORHOOD — 
PECULIARITIES OF THE STREET — PINE STREET — AMONG THE MONEYED MEN — WEST AND 
SOUTH STREETS — ALONG THE WATER SIDE — BUSY SCENES. 

Elsewhere we have described the principal thorough- 
fares of New York at length. In this chapter we pro- 
pose to glance briefly at some of the prominent streets 
of the city, of which the limits of this work do not 
allow such extended notice. 

The street immediately east of Fifth avenue is Madi- 
son avenue, the fashionable rival of the former 
thoroughfare. Begining at 23d street, it extends in an 
unbroken line to the Harlem River. At the lower end 
of the avenue, from 23d to 26th streets, is Madison 
Square, described elsewhere. From 23d to 59th street, 
a distance of about two miles, Madison avenue is built 
up as handsomely as Fifth avenue. The dwellings are 
chiefly of brownstone, and rival the Fifth avenue man- 
sions in external and internal splendor. Stately 
churches and splendid club houses break the line of 
dwellings, and give an air of picturesqueness _to the 
street. There is not so much travel here as on Fifth 
avenue, and the street, therefore, constitutes a pleas- 
anter dwelling place than its more famous rival. 



266 NEW YORK. 

Immediately east of Madison avenue is Park avenue. 
This name is applied to the portion of Fourth avenue 
lying between 34th and ^26. streets. It occupies the 
centre of Murray Hill, and is one of the most ultra 
fashionable sections of the city. The mansions which 
line the street are among the handsomest in New 
York, some of them being especially noted for the 
beauty of their designs. Park avenue is built over the 
tunnel by which the line of the Fourth avenue railroad 
is carried through Murray Hill from 34th to 42d street, 
and is the widest of all the fashionable thorouo-hfares. 
In the centre of the street is a succession of small, 
handsome, enclosed parks, from which the avenue takes 
its name, planted with flowers and shrubbery, which 
give to the street a pleasant and somewhat rural 
aspect. Each of these individually is a city square in 
length, and is pierced with a grated aperture, through 
which light and air are supplied to the tunnel below. A 
fine roadway runs on each side of the enclosures, and 
affords ample room for the travel of the street. The 
avenue is noted for its exclusiveness. Being" so short, 
and being already occupied, there is no room for new 
comers. 

Lexington avenue, commencing at 14th street and 
lying midway between Third and Fourth avenues, is 
the next street east of Park avenue. It is broken at 
20th street by Gramrriercy Park, which extends to 21st 
street, .but above that street the avenue extends in an 
unbroken line to the Harlem River. From 1 4th street 
to Grammercy Park it is known as Irving Place. It is 
handsomely built, brownstone being the prevailing 
material. The lower part, around and above Gram- 



THIRD AVENUE, 267 

mercy Park is occupied by the residences of families 
of wealtli and fashion, but the upper part makes Httle 
claim to social distinction. It is a pleasant residence 
street, and one of the cleanest in the city. 

34th and 57th streets are lined for several square, 
east and west of Fifth avenue, with palatial mansions, 
and are amoncr the ultra fashionable thoroucrhfares. 
Indeed, nearly all the cross streets above 34th, and 
between Lexington and Sixth avenues, are magnificently 
built, and are included within the limits of the world of 
fashion. Many of these streets, within the boundaries 
named, are built up solidly with splendid mansions 
which would do credit even to Fifth avenue. 

The Third avenue begins at 9th street, where It joins 
the Bowery, and runs In a straight line to the Harlem 
River at 1 30th street. It is six miles in length, and has 
always been the principal thoroughfare of the east side 
of the Island. It Is now traversed by the Elevated 
Railroad and a line of horse cars, each of which trans- 
port enormous numbers of passengers daily. It is 
almost entirely built up from end to end, and is devo- 
ted to small retail stores, whose aofprreo-ate business 
represents a gigantic traffic. Along Its entire length 
It has not a single building of prominence, and the 
street has an aspect of sameness and monotony that 
Is not to be found in the west side thoroucrhfares. But 
saloons and tenement houses abound, and the upper 
portions of the houses are occupied by several families, 
each havlnor but a single floor. Of late years a num- 
ber of cheap apartment houses have been erected 
along the upper part of the avenue, and are occupied 
by families of smail means. 



268 NEW YORK. 

The Sixth avenue has been noticed elsewhere. 

The Eighth avenue is to the west side, what the 
Third is to the east. It commences at Greenwich street 
and Abingdon Square, and extends to the Harlem 
River, about six miles distant. Like Third avenue it is 
devoted to small retail dealers, whose transactions, 
though insignificant in themselves, make up an enor- 
mous aggregate. It is the paradise of the Jews, and 
cheap jewelry and clothing stores abound. It is poorly 
built, the only building of prominence on the avenue 
being the Grand Opera House at the corner of 23d 
street. In many portions of the street the stock in 
trade of the dealers overflows the stores, and is dis- 
played in stands along the sidewalk. The street is 
always crowded, and the sidewalk dealers appear to 
drive a thriving trade. On Saturday night the avenue 
at 42d street presents a curious sight. Numerous 
wagons are ranged along the curbstones, and stands 
are erected along the sidewalk. These stretch out into 
42 d street to the westward, and each is brightly illumi- 
nated with blazing lights which even a strong wind 
cannot extinguish. Fruits, oysters, fish, game, provi- 
sions of all kinds, are sold here by licensed venders, 
and for this one night of the week a general market is 
held, which is patronized by vast numbers of the people 
living near, especially the poorer classes. In the neigh- 
borhood of 59th street a number of large "Apartment 
Houses" are springing up. From 59th to i loth street 
Eighth avenue forms the western boundary of the 
Central Park, and above the park it is sparsely built up, 
being lined mainly with market gardens. It is traversed 
along its entire length by a line ^f horse cars, and 



TWENTY-THIRD STREET. 269 

from about ii2th street to 155th, at the Harlem River, 
the middle of the street is occupied by the Metropoli- 
tan Elevated Railroad. 

Twenty-third and 1 4th streets are broad, -handsome 
thoroughfares, extending across the island from river 
to river. Twenty years ago they were the chosen 
seats of wealth and fashion, and from Broadway west- 
ward were lined with superb mansions. Now they are 
busy, bustling marts of trade. The old rnansions have 
disappeared, and in their places stand huge iron, mar- 
ble, and stone structures, devoted to the various 
branches of the retail trade. Dry goods, furniture, 
millinery, sewing-machines, and musical instruments, 
are the trades chiefly to be found on 14th street. 
Scarcely a vestige of the old street remains, and those 
who, twenty years ago, thought it the perfection of a 
residence street, would fall to recogfnize it, so thor- 
ouo^hlv has it gfone over to trade. 

Twenty-third street retained its private character 
longer than 14th. In bygone days it was one of the 
most fashionable promenades of the city. On sunny 
mornings, nurses with infants in their arms, and chil- 
dren with hoops, go-carts and toys, monopolized the 
sidewalks ; elegantly-attired ladies sauntered along ; 
and splendid equipages stood before the stately man- 
sions, while their mistresses paid calls within. There 
was no haste, no bustle. Although so near Broadway, 
the street was peaceful and quiet. Now the omnibuses 
and the street cars, and countless wagons, trucks, and 
peddler's carts make the place a very Babel. 

Twenty-third street presents quite a bizarre appear- 
ance,-from Broadway to Eighth avenue. Here are 



270 NEW YORK. 

hotels, express offices, theatres, beer saloons, restau- 
rants, rum shops, French flats, dry goods stores, 
stables, churches, undertakers' warehouses, and a large 
music garden, where concerts are given and beer drank 
nightly. The high rents of Broadway have done much 
to brinCT about this condition of thino^s ; but, more than 
this, the gradual progress of trade, and the overcrowd- 
ing of the stores along the line of the surface roads, 
have effected the chanofes. Most of all, however, it is 
due to the establishment of the Elevated Railroads, 
which bring the two extremities of the city within half 
an hour's distance of each other, and make 23d street 
the natural half-way stopping-place for shoppers and 
sight-seers. 

There are nearly a score of refreshment saloons in 
Twenty-third street, between Broadway and Eighth 
avenue, ranging from the pretentious hotel and club 
house to the simple bar for beer. Billiard rooms and 
Masonic lodges abound, bocft-black stands decorate 
every corner, and dry goods are exhibited in the 
modest thread and needle shops as well as in palatial 
warehouses that cost half a million of dollars. Trot- 
ting stables and theatres are near neighbors, and some 
of the finest residences in the city have been turned 
into flats for milliners, dentists, and barbers. For 
some reason the theatres in Twenty- third street have 
always had but a shaky existence. Two of them will 
live in local history; one as the scene of a monumental 
dramatic failure, the other as the place where financial 
giants fought for supremacy in one of the great rail- 
roads of the world. 

Twenty-third and Fourteenth street constitute the 



THE BEGGARS PARADISE. 



271 



"Beggars' Paradise," the former by day and die latter 
by night. The same cripples, hand-organ men, Italian 
men and women, and professional boy beggars who 
infest Twenty-third street by day change their quarters 
to Fourteenth street, when the darkness settles down 




PLEASE GIVE ME A PENNY. 



over the cit}', and the blaze of the electric lights bursts 
forth over the latter thorouofhfare. 

These beeears constitute an intolerable nuisance, 
and some of them are characters in their way. It is 
noticeable that nearly all the professional beggars 



272 NEW YORK. 

have watchers and guardians near them. One very 
old man, with a head as bald as a billiard ball, takes 
his stand every day, hat in hand, near the residence of 
a prominent city official on Twenty-third street, while 
he challenges every passer by with the most piteous 
looks. On the opposite side of the street, and gen- 
erally in the calm retreat of a church, stands his "pal." 
If business is good, the two now and then adjourn to 
a cheap beer saloon in Sixth avenue, and lay out a 
part of the receipts in drink. Another is a hideous 
looking fellow with St. Vitus' dance, and a terribly 
scarred face and mutilated hand. He pays more at- 
tention to ladies than to men. As one approaches he 
begins to bow. Fastening his evil eyes upon her, he 
bows and bows until she has passed. If she gives him 
a coin, he returns a ghastly grin of gratitude. If she 
bestows no notice upon him, the look of entreaty in 
his face changes to a scowl of positive malignity. This 
beggar's pal is a female, and the two can be seen fre- 
quently counting their spoils on Seventh avenue near 
Twenty-second street. The most systematic beggar 
of all is a man paralyzed from his waist downward. 
He sits in a four-wheeled wagon, and is drawn to a 
fresh station each day. He works the thoroughfare 
between Fourth and Eighth avenue, on both sides. 
He is a large, fine looking man, and so successfully 
imposes an expression of melancholy into his large 
eyes that the ladies cannot resist the impulse to pity 
his misfortunes and reward his pertinacity. The 
creature who wheels the wagon and watches the 
contributors, is an elderly man with a vicious face. 
He makes his companion settle up three or four times 



A YOUNG beggar's TRICK. 273 

a day, and is liberal with his oaths if his share does not 
equal the amount he expected. 

The worst feature is the begging of children. They 
follow the passers-by with the greatest persistence, 
urging them to buy hair-pins, shawl-pins, matches, 
and a dozen other things for which they have no use. 
There are three well-known workers of the Twenty- 
third street cars, who are not over ten years old, one 
of them, in fact, being under seven. They adopt all 
manner of dodges and tricks and constitute a sore an- 
noyance to the passengers. One rainy night, a little six 
year old child leaned against a tree between Sixth and 
Seventh avenues, and began to cry bitterly. His grief 
attracted the attention of a kind-hearted lady, who 
stopped and asked him what was the matter. His 
only reply was a fresh burst of tears. A crowd soon 
gathered, and the little rascal saw his opportunity. 
Taking from under his arm a package of evening 
papers, soaked through with the rain, he stated, in a 
voice choked with sobs, that he must sell these papers 
or be beaten when he returned home, and now the 
rain had ruined them, and nobody would buy them. 
Some generous person in the crowd at once took the 
papers, gave the lad a quarter, and told him to go 
home m peace. The young beggar was off like a 
flash as soon as he received the money, and was 
immediately joined by a companion who had been 
waiting for him, and together they proceeded to a 
cheap oyster house to enjoy a stew, and laugh over 
the tender-heartedness of the philanthropist who had 
so easily taken the bait. 

Now and then a case of real distress occurs among 

18 



274 NEW YORK. 

these proiessional child beggars, but not often, as the 
routes are carefully watched and guarded by the old 
hands, and intruders on "claims" are as summarily 
dealt with as they are in a western mining camp. One 
night last winter, when the keen wind whistled around 
the corner of Fifth avenue and Twenty-third street, a 
bob-tailed car was jolting along. On the little rear 
platform, curled up like a rat, was a very small boy, 
with a visorless cap. He was sound asleep, and the 
driving sleet was fast stiffening his ragged coat. With 
a slam and a bang, a well-dressed young snob inside 
shoved back the sliding door, and as he endeavored to 
get off, his foot unwittingly struck the drenched waif on 
the platform. With an oath at the delay, he kicked 
the sleeping child into the street, where good fortune 
rolled him beyond the track of the Broadway line, on 
which a Broome street car was boundinpf alonof. Be- 
fore the lad had rubbed his sleepy eyes, the fine young 
gentleman was caught by the collar of his fur-lined 
ulster, and hauled to the corner where the stalwart 
policeman, who had seen the outrage, had laid the boy. 
The little fellow, more frightened by the "cop" than 
hurt by the fall, glanced around in alarm, and the 
offender was dismissed w^ith a severe and well merited 
rebuke from the officer. The policeman eyed the lad 
quietly for awhile, and then asked w^hat he was doing 
on the car platform. "I wa'nt doing nuthin," was the 
reply; "I was only sleepin'." "Why didn't you go 
home to sleep?" "Ain't got none " "Where do you 
live?" "Anywheres." "Have you had any supper?" 
"No." "Any breakfast?" "Plenty." "Where did 
you get it?" "In the box on Eighth avenue, just 



BLEECKER STREET. 275 

round the corner of Twenty-third street." "What did 
you eat?" "Tater peeHns and a piece of sausage." 
"Have you a father or mother?" "Father's dead, 
and mother's on the Island. They never warn't no 
oood, nohow." "Would you like some dinner?" 
"No, you don't. You can't catch me, my covey." "I 
don't wan't to catch you, I want to help you. Would 
you like some dinner?" "Would I like a dinner? 
Would I like forty bloody dinners? You just try me." 
He was given a dinner, and afterwards a bed in 
the station house. Subsequent inquiry by the police 
proved the truth of the little fellow's' story, and he was 
kindly cared for, and a home secured for him. He 
may live to be a useful man, and may yet thank the 
well dressed rufhan who kicked him from want and 
beggary into the hands of a kind-hearted policeman, 
Bleecker street is another of the noted thorough- 
fares of the great city. From the Bowery westward 
it is lined with rows of comfortable old fashioned 
dwellings, all of which speak of former glory and pres- 
ent distress. The street was at one time the chosen 
seat of the fashion and wealth of the city, and it was 
then that these stately old houses were built. Until 
the march of trade drove the fashionable world into 
Washington Square and Fifth avenue, to be the 
owner of a Bleecker street mansion was to be at the 
heighth of fashionable felicity. Now the buildings have 
been converted into stores, restaurants, and beer 
saloons, and the street is known as the headquarters 
of the Bohemian element of the city's population. 
Struo^orlinor artists, musicians, actresses, ballet girls, 
sewing women, all sorts of people who live by their 



276 NEW YORK. 

wits, find homes here, and it is a queer looking crowd 
one meets on the sidewalks. The street cannot be 
said to be bad or even disreputable, but it is at the 
best a sort of doubtful neighborhood, which people 
with reputations to lose avoid. Life here is free from 
most of the restraints imposed elsewhere, and so long 
as the denizens of the neighborhood do not actually 
violate the law, they may do as they please. It is 
emphatically a street in which no questions are asked. 

Grand street east of the Bowery is one of the busi- 
est and liveliest in New York. It is devoted to the 
cheap dry goods and millinery trades, and does a thriv- 
ing business. Some of the establishments are large 
and elegant, but the customers belong chiefly to the 
humbler walks of life. Occasionally a west side lady 
in search of a bargain comes into the street, but such 
visitors are rare. On Saturday night the street is in 
its glory. The stores are open until a late hour, and 
the colored lamps of the stores and blazing torches of 
the sidewalk hucksters' stands give to it the effect of a 
partial illumination. Shops and sidewalks are all 
thronged, and the air is alive with the sound of voices. 

Chatham street, extending from Chatham Square to 
City Hall Square, has long been famous in the local 
history of New York. It is about a quarter of a mile 
in length, and narrow and dirty throughout. Near the 
City Hall Square are several cheap hotels and fair res- 
taurants, but the remainder of the street is taken up 
with old clothes stores, cheap clothing stores, pawn- 
brokers' shops, beer saloons, dance-houses of the low- 
est description, and establishments of various kinds. 
The dealers in the street are nearly all Jews, the 



NASSAU STREET. 277 

sharpest and most unscrupulous of their class, who do 
not hesitate to swindle their customers before their 
very eyes, and then call on the police to arrest their 
victims if they resist. The streets leading to the ri<dit 
and left run off to the Five Points and other similar 
localities, to which Chatham street is a worthy neigh- 
bor. Respectable people in New York avoid making 
purchases here, and the stranger would do well to fol- 
low their example. A heavy tide of travel passes 
through this wretched street. Several prominent lines 
of horse-cars find their way to the City Hall Square 
and the Post Office through it, and overhead the Third- 
avenue branch of the Elevated road whirls its crowded 
trains to and from the terminus opposite the City Hall. 

Fulton street is the great artery through which the 
enormous stream of travel and traffic between New 
York and Brooklyn ebbs and flows. From Broadway 
to the Fulton Ferr)^ on the East River, it is always 
crowded with vehicles and pedestrians. It is well 
built, and contains a number of handsome business 
structures. 

Nassau street runs parallel with Broadway, immedi- 
ately east of it, and extends from Wall street to Prin.t- 
ing-House Square. It is one of the narrowest streets 
in the city, and is built up with lofty houses, which shut 
out the sunlight and give it a dark and gloomy appear- 
ance. The roadway is so narrow that two vehicles 
can scarcely pass each other, and the sidewalks afford 
such little room, that half the passers through the 
street are obliged to take to the roadway. The south- 
ern end of the street is taken up with handsome bank 
and insurance buildings, generally of marble. The 



278 NEW YORK, 

northern part contains numbers of old book stores, and 
is a favorite locality with the stationer)^ trade. Real 
estate men and diamond merchants like the street, and 
dealers in watches and jewelry also have their head- 
quarters here, generally in the second stories of the 
houses. Each house appears to contain a little world 
within its four walls. The front, the stairways, and the 
w^alls of the vestibules are covered with scores of signs, 
setting forth the nature of the various pursuits carried 
on within. Enter one of these "offices," and you will 
find it a mere closet. Yet enormous rents are paid for 
them, and their occupants remain in them as long as 
possible, or until a fortunate change in their business 
sends them to better-arranged quarters. It has been 
said that Nassau street is a good place to hide in, and 
it would seem that in the thousand and one " estab- 
lishments" with which the tall buildings on the street 
are filled, one might very easily slip out of observation 
and be forgotten. You wonder, indeed, how persons 
having business with the occupants of these dens ever 
find them. This characteristic of the street renders it 
a favorite place with persons who carry on unlawful 
trades, and do business by means of circulars, and un- 
der assumed names. 

Pine street extends from Broadway eastward, imme- 
diately north of Wall street. It is a narrow thorough- 
fare, but between Nassau street and Broadway is lined 
with noble structures occupied by banks and corporate 
institutions. These buildino^s are so tall that the street 

o 

is always in shadow. At the head of the street, in 
Trinity churchyard, rises the Martyr's monument. 
Two of the busiest and most crowded streets in the 



280 NEW YORK. 

city are South and West streets, the former running 
alonor the East River, and the latter aloncr the Hudson 
or North River. The great Brooklyn ferries have 
their landings on the former street, while on West 
street are the ferries which connect New York with the 
shores of New Jersey. Both are thronged throughout 
the day with a constant stream of heavily laden 
wagons and trucks. Along the East River front are 
lonor lines of sailincr craft, from the hug-e Indiaman 
down to the little coasting sloop, and in the various 
slips which break the line' of South street the barges 
which are brought down the Hudson from the Erie 
Canal have their headquarters. On West street are 
the piers of the various railway lines terminating in 
Jersey City and Hoboken, and here also are the 
wharves of the great European steamship lines. Each 
street has its peculiar characteristics, but both are alike 
in the dirt and filth with which they are covered, the 
roar and crash of vehicles, and the difficulties which 
beset the pedestrian in his efforts to struggle across 
them from the sidewalk to the ferries. 



PATENT DIVORCES. 281 

CHAPTER XVII. 

DIVORCES WITHOUT PUBLICITY. 

yUEER ADVEETISKMENTS — THE "DIVORCE RING " — ITS FIELD OF OPERATIONS — THEDIVORCF. 
LAWYER — WHO HE IS — HEADQUARTERS OF THE MEaiBEKS OF THD RING^SCENIJ IN A LAW- 
YER'S OFFICE — A RICH CLIENT — " OFF WITH THE OLD LOVE AND ON WITH THE NEW" — A 
CHARACTERISTIC CASE — "THE EASIEST THING IN THE WORLD TO GET A DIVORCE" — WEST- 
ERN DIVORCES — HOW A MERCHANT MADE A MISTRESS OF HIS WLFE — WHO ARE THE CLIENTS 
— COST OF A DIVORCE — HOW IT K MANAGED — THE REFEREE SYSTEM — SPOTTING A HUSBAND — 
MANUFACTURIWG EVIDENCE — THE " OLD MAN " ENTRAPPED — PROFESSIONAL WITNESSES — 
THE DIVORCE LAW^'Er's SYSTEM OF DRUMMING- UP BUSINESS — DIRTY-WOKK FOR TEN PER 
CENT — SERVING A SUMMONS — A MOCKERY OF JUSTICE — POWER OF THE RING — THE COURTS 
AND EAR AFRAID TO BREAK IT OP. 

A leading New York daily, of a recent date, contains 
the followincr advertisements : — 

DIVORCES without publicity in 30 days ; all causes ; every State ; consulta- 
tion free ; experienced lawyer ; success guaranteed. 

Smith, Brown & Co., 86 — Street. 

DIVORCES cheaply, without publicity; desertion, incompatibility, non-sup- 
port, intemperance, compulsory marriages; parties any State ; explanatory 
blanks free ; always successful; consultations free; confidential. 

Lawyer Smoothtonguk, 105 — Street. 

Similar advertisements are to be found in other 
journals, especially in those of "sporting" proclivities. 
They announce to the public that there is in New York 
a powerful and regularly organized " Ring," whose 
business it is to untie the marriage-knot, and they 
guarantee to do it with the ease and celerity with which 
it is tied. This would seem strange in a State where 
the laws regulating divorces are so rigid ; but the di- 
vorce lawyer knows how to set even these at defiance, 
and that his efforts are successful, is shown by the 
handsome income he enjoys and the elegant style in 
which he lives. He does not rely upon New York 



282 NEW YORK. 

aloiie for his field of operations ; other States are more 
liberal in this matter, and if the separation of husband 
and wife cannot be procured In the Empire State, he 
can easily accomplish it in some other part of the 
Union. 

The divorce lawyer devotes himself to this branch 
of his profession exclusively. He is sometimes an ex- 
member of the Bar, who has been disbarred for dis- 
honest practices, and cannot appear directly in the 
case himself. He hires some shyster lawyer to go 
through the formalities of the courts for him, and some- 
times succeeds in inducing a barrister of good stand- 
ing to act for him. His office is usually in the quarter 
most frequented by practitioners of standing, and is 
located in some larcre buildingr with longr halls, so that 
his clients may come and go without attracting special 
notice. The outer office is fitted up in regular legal 
style, with substantial desks and tables, and the walls are 
lined with cases of law books. The private consulta- 
tion room is elegantly furnished, and is provided with 
the coziest arm-chairs, in which the clients can sit at 
their ease, and pour into the sympathizing ears of the 
"counsellor" their tales of woe. 

Let us seat ourselves, unseen, in the private office 
of a leading divorce firm. They are located at the 
rear of a superb building on Broadway, and have ele- 
gantly fitted-up apartments. Counsellor , the 

head of the firm, conducts the consultations. He is a 
portly, smooth-faced, oily-tongued man, possessing 
great powers of cheek and plausiveness, just the man 
to lead a hesitating client to take the decisive step. A 
clerk from the outer office announces a visitor. A 



THE LAWYER AND HIS CLIENT. 283 

richly dressed, closely veiled lady is shown in, and die 
pordy counsellor, rising courteously, places a chair for 
her. The seat is taken, the veil thrown back, and the 
counsellor finds himself face to face with a woman of 
beauty and refinement, and evidendy of wealth— a 
most desirable client. In his blandest tones he invites 
her to state the nature of her business with him. 
Then follows a long- tale of domesdc unhappiness, the 
sum and substance of which is that she is tired of licr 
husband, and wants a divorce from him. 

"Upon what grounds, Madame?" asks the coun- 
sellor, settling down to business. 

"Grounds?" is the startled, hesitating reply; "Why 
— I — that is — I am so unhappy with him." 

"Is he unfaithful to you?" 

"I do not know. I hope he is — I am afraid not. how- 
ever, I thought you would ascertain for me." 

" Certainly, Madame, certainly. Nothing easier in 
the world. We'll find out all about him. W^e'll learn 
the innermost secrets of his heart, and I've no doubt 
we shall find him grossly unfaithful. Most men are." 

"Oh, not all, sir," the lady cries, a little startled, "I'm 
sure that " 

Good sense comes to her aid, and she pauses. She 
must not tell all, even to her " legal adviser." The 
counsellor smiles ; he has seen such cases before. It 
is only an affair of exchanging an old love for a new. 

"Has he ever maltreated you — struck you ?" he asks. 

"Oh no." 

"Never attempted any violence with you?" 

"He once seized a paper weight on the library table, 
very much excited, while I was talking with him." 



284 NEW YORK. 

"Indeed! He tried to dasli )our brains out with a 
paper weight, did he? That is very important evidence, 
Madame, very important." 

And the counsellor jots it down on a memorandum. 

"But, sir, I did not say that he — ." 

"Oh, never mind, Madame. Wives are too ready to 
forgive their husbands' brutality. The fact remains 
the same, however. This infamous attempt upon your 
life will be sufficient evidence with the Western judge 
before whom the case will be tried. I congratulate 
you, Madame, upon the prospect of a speedy release 
from such a monster." 

The lady is delighted, pays the retainer, which is a 
handsome one, agrees upon the amount to be paid 
when the divorce is granted, and the parties separate, 
mutually pleased with each other. 

The counsellor now goes to work in earnest. 
Operations are carried on in some Western State. 
Witnesses are provided who will swear to anything 
they are paid for; the divorce is duly obtained; the fee 
is paid; and the Madame coolly informs her husband 
that they are no longer husband and wife. 

A year or two ago the New York papers contained 
an account of a man who had gotten one of these 
patent divorces from his wife. Not caring to part 
from her just then, but wishing to be able to do so 
when he pleased, he locked the papers up in his desk, 
and said nothing to her about the matter, and for 
ten years she lived with him as his mistress, in total 
ignorance of her true relations to him. At last, be- 
coming tired of her, he produced the decree of divorce, 
and left her. 



COST OF A PAIENT DIVORCE. 285 

All sorts of people seek the assistance of the divorce 
lawyers to free them from their matrimonial tics. Ex- 
travagant and reckless wives of men who are not able 
to meet their demands for money; dissolute actresses, 
who wish to break up an old alliance in order to form 
a new one; married women, who have become in- 
fatuated with some scamp they have met at a theatre 
matinee, or through the medium of a personal ; married 
men who are tired of their wives and desire to be 
united to a new partner; lovers of married women, 
who come to engage fabricated testimony and surrep- 
titious divorce for the frail creatures whose virtue is 
still too cowardly to dare the more honest sin; all who, 
with or without protest, seek a release from the mar- 
riage bond. For each and all the divorce lawyer has a 
ready ear and an encouraging word. Nothing is 
easier than to obtain a divorce, he assures them. If 
the cause assigned by them is insufficient, it can be 
made strong enough; if evidence is lacking, it can be 
obtained — manufactured, if necessary. He receives 
a retainer from each and all, and sends them away 
with the happy consciousness that their matrimonial 
troubles will soon be over. 

A divorce costs anywhere from ^25 to whatever 
sum the applicant is willing to pay for it, and can be 
obtained in New York, or any other State, according 
to the wishes of the party and the desire to avoid pub- 
licity. Any cause may be assigned ; the lawyer guar- 
antees that the evidence to support it shall be iorth- 
coming at the proper time. It is a little more trouble- 
some to obtain a New York divorce, but the machinery 
of the law is sufficiendy loose even there to enable a 



286 NEW YORK. 

well-managed case to be successful. The divorce 
lawyer has witnesses upon whom he can depend, for 
they are regularly in his pay. They will swear as they 
are instructed. The proceedings are private, the 
courts tu minor the whole matter over to a referee, who 
is frequently in collusion with the lawyer conducting 
the case. Not a word about the affair is allowed to 
get into the newspapers. The defendant has been 
kept in ignorance of the proceedings, and naturally 
does not appear in court, in person or by counsel, to 
offer any opposition, and the case goes by default. 
The referee hears the evidence, which has been care- 
fully prepared, in the case ; submits a decision in favor 
of the plaintiff; the court confirms the decision ; the 
divorce is granted, and the first thing the defendant 
knows of the whole affair is the triumphant proclama- 
tion of the decree of the court, and the announcement 
of the dissolution of the marriage. 

Adultery is a favorite ground with the divorce law- 
yer, and, strange as it may appear, it is comparatively 
easy to fasten such a charge upon the defendant, if that 
person happens to be the husband. This is how it is 
done: One of the "agents" of the firm makes the ac- 
quaintance of the husband, who is in total ignorance 
of the plot against him, and after becoming somewhat 
familiar with him, invites him to a quiet little supper at 
some convenient restaurant. When the wine has done 
its work, a party of ladies drop in, quite by accident, 
of course, and are pressed by the agent to remain. 
The innocent victim joins in the request ; he would be 
an ill-bred fellow if he did not. A dead set is made at 
the victim, whose wits are generally somewhat confused 



MANUFACTURING EVIDENCE. 287 

with the wine he has drank, and the natural conse- 
quences follow. The agent coolly looks on, and takes 
his notes, and the particular beauty who has won over 
the victim to her charms becomes an important witness 
in the case. There is no difficulty in proving the 
charge. 

Where the husband is a jolly, good-natured man, 
and loves to take his pleasure, the agent's business is 
greatly simplified. He has but to shadow his victim, 
note down his acts, even his words, for the most inno- 
cent deed can be distorted by a shrewd divorce lawyer 
into damaging evidence of guilt. The least imprudence 
is magnified into sin, and little by little all the needed 
evidence is obtained. 

Sometimes all these arts fail. Then the lawyer has 
but one resource, to employ paid witnesses to swear 
to the husband's guilt, where no overt act has been 
committed. The divorce must be obtained at any cost; 
and the lawyer knows "no such word as fail." 

Sometimes business becomes dull. People appear 
to be satisfied with their partners, and applications for 
patent divorces fall off The divorce lawyer is equal 
to the emergency, however, and sets his agents to work 
to drum up business. They proceed upon a regular 
system, and seek high game. They operate among 
persons able to pay large fees, and seek women as 
their victims in preference to men. A member of the 
Metropolitan bar, conversing with a friend not long- 
since, thus explained the system pursued : — 

"You understand, of course, that society is not 
happy in all its honors. All the brownstone houses 
have to have new closets put in every year in order to 



288 NEW YORK. 

accommodate the skeletons. Still, many a woman and 
man, if let alone, would bear his or her connubial bur- 
dens meekly, rather than face the scandal and publicity 
of a divorce trial. Our special divorce lawyers know 
this, and so they invade society. They transfer the 
base of operations to the drawing rooms. How ? By 
using swell members of the fashionable world to first 
find out where there is a canker in the rose, and then to 
deftly set forth in a perfect Mephistophilian w^ay how 
divorce is the only cure. Nine-tenths of this delicate 
diplomatic business is employed in persuading hesita- 
ting wives. Husbands could hardly be approached in 
their own homes with a proposition to break them up. 
Take an impressionable woman, already unhappy, who 
has once been thinking of divorce, and the case is differ- 
ent. She is clay for the moulder. The serpent whis- 
pers of how nice it will be to bank her alimony, tells 
her lies about the old man, induces her to believe that 
the firm down town will put in no bill if they don't 
succeed, and so the affair is arranged." 

For this despicable service the agent receives ten 
per cent, of the fee paid the divorce lawyer by the 
wife, which fee, be it remembered, comes out of the 
husband's pocket. 

Oftentimes the agent is called upon to personate the 
husband, especially in serving the summons of the 
court upon him, if the case is to be tried in New York. 
The lawyer in charge has the case quietly put on 
record in the proper court, and has a summons pre- 
pared for service upon the defendant. A boy is called 
in from the street, anybody will answer, and is paid a 
trifle to take the summons to the defendant's place of 



THE DIVORCE RING. 289 

business or residence, and deliver it to him in person. 
Arrived at his destination, the boy is met by the agent 
of the divorce lawyer, at the door or on the steps. 
The agent sharply demands his business, and is 
answered by the boy that he wishes to deliver a paper 

to Mr. X . "I am Mr. X ," replies the agent, 

sharply, "give me the paper." The boy, in perfect 

ofood faith, for he has never seen Mr. X in his 

life, delivers the summons to the agent, and goes back 
to the lawyer's office, where he signs an affidavit that 
he has served the summons upon the defendant in 
person. He is then dismissed, and plays no further 
part in the case. His affidavit is sufficient for this 
part of the proceedings, and the shameful mockery of 
justice proceeds to another stage. 

This is no exaggerated description. The acts of 
these divorce lawyers are well known in New York, 
and every member of the bar is familiar with their 
mode of proceeding. Reputable barristers denounce 
them as a disgrace, not only to the profession, but to 
humanity. The judges on the bench know these men 
and their ways. Yet neither the bench nor the Bar 
x^ssociation make any effort to stop the evil or to dis- 
bar the wretches who thus prey upon the most sacred 
relations of Hfe. The "Divorce Ring" is a powerful 
clique, intimately connected with and very useful to 
the whole referee system, and lawyers of standing are 
afraid to attempt to bring it to justice, lest they should 
draw upon themselves the vengeance of the "Referee 
Ring," and so injure their own professional prospects. 
So the evil continues to grow. It will flourish as long 
as there are foolish people to take advantage of it. 

19 



290 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

CHRISTMAS IN NEW YORK. 

PREPARATIONS FOR CHRISTMAS — HOLIDAY APPEARANCE OF THE CITY — STREET SCENES — BUSINESS 
BOOMING— SCENES IN THE CITY BY NIGHT — A NOVEL SIGHT ON THE ELEVATED RAILROAD 
TRAINS — BUSY TIMES IN THE MARKETS — THE TURKEYS — TRINITY CHIMES — MIDNIGHT SER- 
VICES — CHRISTMAS DAY — HOW IT IS OBSERVED IN NEW YORK — CHRISTMAS WITH THE POOR. 

New York attests its Dutch and English descent by 
the heartiness with which it " keeps Christmas." For 
weeks before the great day of the Feast the city is in 
gala attire. The stores present a brighter and more 
attractive appearance than at any other season of the 
year, the streets are filled with larger throngs, and the 
stages, street cars, and trains of the Elevated roads are 
more crowded than ever. Every family in the great 
Babel is looking forward with eagerness to the period 
when happiness shall rule the home, and dull care be 
banished from the household. The litttle folks are in 
their glory, for it is their season, par excellence. They 
look forward eagerly to the "day of days;" wonder 
what presents the good Saint Nicholas — for by what- 
ever other name the tutelary saint of Christmas be 
called elsewhere, this is his true title in the Uetropolis 
— will bring them ; and scan with longing eyes the 
impenetrable wrappers of the parcels that daily find 
their way to the homes, and are put with haste under 
lock and key. As the festival draws nearer, the bustle 
and excitement increases throughout the city, and when 
Christmas Eve is reached New York is fairly crazed 
with enthusiasm. 



PREPARATIONS FOR CHRISTMAS. 291 

The city presents an interesting- appearance on the 
day before Christmas. The air is keen and crisp, and, 
if the streets and the house tops are covered with a 
mantle of snow, so much the better, for to the lover of 
Christmas the season should always be a snowy one. 
The streets and stores are now packed to their utmost 
capacity. It is the money spending time of the year, 
and those who are out mean business. No matter if 
the weather is cold, and the thoroughfares are slushy, 
no matter if the wind whirls in fitful gusts along the 
streets, chilling the hands and noses of the passers 
by. Warm hearts beat under the warm clothing of the 
holiday makers. Broadway, from Bleecker street to 
Thirty- fourth. Sixth, Eighth, and Third avenues almost 
along their entire length, 23d, 14th, and Grand streets, 
and the Bowery are all driving a thriving trade. The 
display in the stores is something wonderful, and the 
proprietors are in high good humor at the rapid disap- 
pearance of their wares. The streets are filled with 
booths and stands at which a busy trade is going on. 
Articles which find no sale at other seasons of the year 
ace now disposed of rapidly and at satisfactory prices. 
Men and women jostle each other on the sidewalks, and 
it is difficult in some places to force one's way through 
the throng. Huge piles of Christmas trees stand on 
the corners, and find ready purchasers, and wagons 
loaded with trees and evergreen decorations, wreaths, 
stars, festoons, and the like, pass along the up-town 
streets, disposing of their wares from house to house. 
Thousands of dollars change hands everv minute. 
The clerks in the stores are as busy as bees, and extra 
help has to be enp-aged. It is marvelous to see how 



292 NEW YORK. 

rapidly and with what promptness purchases are deliv- 
ered at the houses of the buyers. Many, however, do 
not trust to these deliveries, but take their purchases 
with them, and all day the streets are filled with men 
and women literally loaded down with parcels. 

At night Broadway, 14th street and Fifth avenue 
are ablaze with the electric light. The stores are all 
open and thronged with buyers. The crowds in the 
streets are even greater, for those who were at work 
during the day are now out, busy with their purchases. 
Men, women and children, loaded with merchandise, 
struggle along the packed sidewalks, and the roar of 
passing vehicles is as great as at any hour of the day. 
Here is a woman with a bundle of toys in^her arms, 
surmounted by a huge turkey for the Christmas din- 
ner. There goes a man struggling under the weight 
of a Christmas tree, and sweeping his way through the 
mass with its thick, sharp branches. Boys with penny 
whistles, young men with tin horns, render the streets 
discordant with their noise ; half-dressed children of 
both sexes stand on the sidewalks watchine the thronof, 
or gaze into the brightly-lighted shop-windows with 
wistful eyes, and wonder what Christmas has in store 
for them. They will not be forgotten on the morrow. 
New York opens its great heart and its big pocket- 
book at this blessed time, and to-morrow huge tables 
will groan with good things, and tall Christmas trees 
stagg-er under the weight of toys and trinkets, for the 
children of the poor. Lights gleam from every house 
in the great city, and could you enter, you would find 
in each and all nearly the same scene going on — the 
elder members of the family dressing the Christmas 



CHRISTMAS EVE. » 293 

tree, and loading it with the toys and trinkets that are 
to gladden the eyes of the young folks when they wake 
on the morrow, and decorating the rooms with wreaths 
and festoons of green, amid which the bright holly ber- 
ries shine out in their crimson beauty. Something of 
this may be seen from the cars of the Elevated roads, 
as you whirl by the second-story windows of the houses 
alonof the route. 

These Elevated trains present a curious spectacle 
on Christmas Eve. At every station there are long 
lines of people going up and down the narrow stair- 
ways, laden with all manner of Christmas treasures. 
The stations themselves have the appearance of booths 
where toys of all kinds are disposed for sale. In the 
cars it is almost impossible to move, because of the 
great bundles of merchandise. You stumble over 
huge turkeys and market-baskets filled to overflowing 
with all manner of eatables, and at every step are 
warned by some anxious passenger to be careful not 
to step on his bundles. Throughout the day, and late 
into the night, each passing train presents the appear- 
ance of being a combination of a toy store and a Wash- 
ington Market stall. 

As for the markets, they seem the very incarnation 
of Christmas. They are thronged to overflowing, and 
the dealers can scarcely supply the demand upon them. 
The scene, especially at night, almost baffles descrip- 
tion. Long rows of turkeys hang from the hooks ot 
the stalls, and are arranged on counters and stands 
which usually groan beneath the weight of butchers' 
meats and sugar-cured hams. Wreaths and festoons 
of evergreens, mingled with holly-berries, decorate 



294 • NEW YORK. 

every stall, and the great sheds are aglow with hun- 
dreds of lamps of every description. Moving in all 
directions are people with huge market-baskets, filled 
with every luxury which can tempt the appetite, and 
the vast, surging; eager crowd acts as though there 
was but one hour in which to buy all that is necessary 
for the crowning festival of the year. Towards eleven 
o'clock business begins to slacken, the crowds of pur- 
chasers fall off, and soon the stalls are closed, the lights 
go out, and the dealers prepare to go home. The city 
becomes quieter, and by midnight the Christmas pur- 
chases are over, and New York prepares for a little 
rest. Yet not long does the^ silence continue. 

When the bell of old Trinity tolls the last stroke of 
the hour of midnight, there is a momentary hush in the 
streets, and then rolling down from their lofty height, 
through the dark thoroughfares and over the silent 
waters of the bay, come the rich, glad tones of the 
chimes, filling the air with a burst of melody. " Christ- 
mas has come," they seem to say. "Awake and re- 
joice, ye dwellers in the great city. Banish your cares 
and lift up your hearts. For one day let sin and sor- 
row cease. 'Glad tidings of great joy' await you. 
Christmas has come: Christ is born." Lights gleam 
in the grand old church below, and soon the full, rich 
tones of the organ and the sweet voices of the choris- 
ters swell out on the midnight air. 

Midnight services are held in many of the Episcopal 
and all of the Catholic churches of the city, and are 
well attended. 

On Christmas day the city is full of gayety, its ob- 
servance being very much the same as in other places. 



CHRISTMAS DINNERS. 295 

Morning services are held at the churches of many of 
the denominations, and large congregations are in 
attendance. In the afternoon the Sunday schools 
generally distribute presents to their attendants, from 
huo^e Christmas trees. 

The Christmas dinner is the great event of the day, 
and at such repasts the turkey always occupies the 
post of honor. Nor are these feasts confined to the 
family board alone. The numerous charitable and 
benevolent institutions spread bountiful tables for their 
inmates. The children of the poor, washed clean and 
neatly dressed, are gathered in from all quarters, at 
certain establishments, and are given the only hearty 
and enjoyable meal of the year. At many of these 
places Christmas trees are provided, and the hearts of 
the little ones are gladdened with toys, trinkets, and 
other presents suited to their needs and years. Even 
the prisoners in the Tombs and on Blackwell's Island 
are not forgotten, and the Christmas dinner spread for 
them sheds a little of light and hope into their other- 
wise gloomy existence. The charitable institutions are 
busy receiving and distributing clothing, food and other 
articles sent to them. New York gives bountifully at 
this season ; even those whose pocket-books are tigHtly 
clasped at other times, open them now, and distribute 
their bounty with generous hands. 

All the theatres give special performances, termed 
" Matinees," in the afternoon. The houses are thronged, 
and the managers pocket large receipts. At night, 
balls, festivals and entertainments of all kinds, close 
the day. 



296 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

PUBLIC BUILDINGS. 

THE CITY HALL — THE GOVERNOR'S ROOM — THE COUNTY COURT HOUSE — REMINISCENCES OP THE 
"tweed ring" — THE HALL OF RECORDS — THE UNITED STATES SUB-TREASURY — THE GREAT 
VAULTS — HOW UNCLE SAM's MONEY IS GUARDED — THE ASSAY OFFICE — THE CUSTOM HOUSE — 
A NOBLE EDIFICE — THE BUSINESS OF THE PORT OF NEW YORK — DUTIES OF OFFICIALS — THE 
BARGE OFFICE — PASSING THROUGH THE CUSTOM HOUSE — CUSTOM HOUSE BROKERS — TAM- 
MANY HALL — THE TAMMANY SOCIETY — POLITICAL ORGANIZATION — "BOSS KELLY " — THE 
COOPER UNION — WORK OF THE INSTITUTION — THE BIBLE HOUSE — A GREAT WORK DONE — THE 
NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN — HOW THE SCHOOLS ARE CONDUCTED — ANNUAL EXHIBI- 
TIONS — THE YOUNG MEN's CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION BUILDING — THE LECTURE ROOM — ^A 
REFUGE FOR YOUNG MEN — THE GRAND CENTRAL RAILROAD DEPOT — INTERNAL ARRANGE- 
MENTS — THE CAR HOUSE — THE FOURTH AVENUE TUNNELS. 

Apart from the great public edifices mentioned 
separately in these pages, there are many which de- 
serve special notice. Of the principal of these we 
propose to speak in this chapter. 

The most prominent of the public buildings is the 
City Hall, the headquarters of the Municipal Govern- 
ment of New York. It stands in the City Hall Park, 
in the rear of the Post Office, from which it is sepa- 
rated by a wide, open space, and between that 
building and the County Court House. The front 
anA sides are of white marble, and the rear of brown 
sandstone. It is built in the Italian style, and was 
begun in 1803 and completed in 181 2, at a cost of 
more than half a million of dollars. It is 216 feet 
long and 105 feet deep, and is surmounted by a cupola 
containing a clock with four faces, which are illuminated 
by gas at night. On the summit of the cupola stands 
a statue of Justice. The building contains the Mayor's 
office, the Common Council Chamber, the City Library, 



I 



THE COUNTY COURT HOUSE. 297 

and a number of the City offices. Some of Its rooms 
are handsome, and are elegantly decorated. The 
principal chamber is called "The Governor's Room," 
and is used chiefly tor official receptions. It is located 
o.i the second floor, and contains the portraits of a 
number of the Governors of New York, Mayors of 
the City, prominent officers of the army, of the Revo- 
lution, and many other distinguished persons. These 
portraits are nearly all by celebrated artists. Here 
also are the chairs used by the First Congress of the 
United States, the chair in which Washington sat at 
his first inauguration as President of the Republic, and 
that in which he penned his first message to Congress. 
The County Court House stands in the rear of the 
City Hall, and fronts on Chambers street. It was 
begun in 1861, and since 1867 has been occupied by 
the State Courts and several of the City Departments, 
though still uncompleted. When finished it will be 
one of the finest edifices in the Union. It is built in 
the Corinthian style of architecture, is three stories 
high, 250 feet long by 150 wide, and is constructed ot 
white marble from Massachusetts. The dome, when 
completed, will be 210 feet above the sidewalk. "One 
of the most novel features of the dome will be the 
arrangement of the tower crowning its apex, into a 
lighthouse, which, from its extreme power and height, 
it is supposed, will furnish guidance to vessels as far 
out at sea as that afforded by any beacon on the 
neighboring coast." The building has already cost 
many millions of dollars. It was the chief means used 
by the Tweed Ring in carrying out their stupendous 
frauds upon the city. The better part of the money 



298 NEW YORK. 

appropriated for its construction went into the pockets 
of tlie Ring. 

At the northeast corner of the City Hall Park, and a 
few yards from the City Hall, stands a stone building 
covered with stucco. It was erected in 1757, as a city 
prison. It is known as the Hall of Records, and is 
occupied by the Registrar and his clerks. 

The United States Sub-Treasury stands at the north- 
east corner of Wall and Nassau streets, and on the 
site of old Federal Hall, in which Washington was 
inaugurated first President of the United States. It 
faces Broad street, and extends back to Pine street. It 
is built of white marble, in the Doric style of architec- 
ture, and its fronts on Wall and Pine streets are adorned 
with noble porticoes, each supported by eight marble 
columns 32 feet high. The Wall street portico is 
approached by a massive flight of eighteen marble steps, 
extending the entire width of the building. As the 
grade on Pine street is higher than that of Wall street, 
the portico on that side is without steps. The main 
entrances lead into a rotunda sixty feet In diameter. The 
dome is very handsome, and is supported by sixteen 
Corinthian columns. The desks of the officials in charge 
of the various departments of the Sub-Treasury are 
arranged around the sides of the rotunda, and are sepa- 
rated from the public portion by a handsome counter 
provided with a glass screen similar to those used in 
banks. The rotunda always presents a busy scene, as 
the business of the Sub-Treasuryis very great. Beneath 
the rotunda is an extensive basement arranged in a 
series of vaults, in which are kept the coins, notes and 
bonds belonging to the general government. The 



GUARDING THE TREASURY VAULTS. 



299 



amount on deposit here is always enormous, and every 
precaution is taken to ensure its safety. During the 
past year the vauhs have been considerably enlarged, 
to accommodate the vast amount of bullion sent here 
for storage, and the great bags of coined money, and 




UNITED STATES SUB-TREASURY. 



new doors have been provided, with an intricate net- 
work of horizontal and perpendicular bars, operated by 
time locks of the most ingenious construction. 

There have been many occasions when alarm has 
been felt lest an attack might be attempted upon the 



300 NEW YORK. 

building by a mob. This apprehension is now over- 
come by the practical conversion of the building into 
a formidable fortress. Every window has been provi- 
ded with heavy steel shutters, and these have been so 
perforated as to admit of very accurate firing by the 
defenders within, in case the building should be attacked 
by a body of rioters. Upon the roof strong steel tur- 
rets have been erected, fitted with loopholes for rifle 
firing, and larger ones for the destructive work of im- 
proved Gatling guns. There are four of these combi- 
nation guns, so mounted as to sweep the neighboring 
housetops, or by being depressed scatter their score of 
bullets into the street. Above the apertures for the 
Catlings are loopholes for riflemen, by which every 
angle of approach can be readily covered. The great- 
est secrecy is maintained respecting these means of 
defense, and no stranger is allowed to inspect them. 
Neither are visitors permitted to see the great vaults 
in the basement. 

The Sub-Treasury was originally built for and used 
by the Custom House, but becoming too small for its 
purposes was remodeled for its present use. 

Adjoining the Treasury is the Assay Office, which is 
practically a department of the Sub-Treasury. It is a 
much smaller edifice, and is constructed of granite. 

The Custom House occupies an irregular square 
bounded by Wall street, Exchange Place, William 
street, and Hanover street. The Wall street front is 
1 44 feet long, and the Exchange Place front, 1 7 1 feet 
long. The depth of the building is 200 feet. The 
height of the building is 77 feet, and from the ground 
to the top of the central dome, the distance is 1 24 feet. 



THE CUSTOM HOUSE. 



301 



The Wall street front is ornamented with a handsome 
portico supported by twelve front, four middle and two 
rear columns of granite, each thirty-eight feet in height. 
The building is constructed of Ouincy granite, and w^as 




CUSTOM HOUSE. 



erected in 1835, ^^ a cost, including the ground, of 
$1,800,000. It was used for a number of years as the 
Merchants' Exchange. It was subsequendy sold to 
the United States Government for $1,000,000, and was 



302 NEW YORK. 

converted to its present use. The main entrance is on 
Wall street, but there are entrances on every side of 
the building. 

The Wall street entrance leads directly to the ro- 
tunda, the main hall of the building, lying immediately 
beneath the dome. Around the sides of this beautiful 
hall are eight lofty columns of Italian marble, the 
superb Corinthian columns of which were carved in 
Italy. They support the base of the dome, and are 
probably the largest and noblest marble columns in 
the United States. The immense building is divided 
into offices, which are used by the Collector of the 
Port, the Naval Officer, and the Surveyor of the Port, 
and their subordinates. The other departments of 
the Custom House are in different parts of the city. 
The Sample Offices are at 254 W^est street; the Ap- 
praiser's Stores at 486 Washington street; the Barge 
Office at 6 State street; and the Public Stores at the 
corner of Washington and Laight street. Large as it 
is, the Custom House building is too small for the 
business transacted within it, and the erection of a 
new Custom House has been strongly urged upon the 
Government. 

The business of the port of New York is immense. 
Five-sixths of all the duties collected on imports in the 
United States are received here. The Collectorship 
of the Port is perhaps the best paying office within the 
gift of the National Government, and is eagerly sought 
after by politicians. The Collector is also possessed 
of great political influence and power, by reason of his 
being the chief of the vast army of employees of 
every description engaged in doing Government work 




CUSTOM HOI--K IXSPKCTION. 



304 NEW YORK. 

in the city. In the Custom House proper there are 
about 1 1 50 clerks, whose aggregate salaries amount to 
about ^3,000,000 per annum. 

The duties of the principal officers of the port are 
thus stated by Colonel T. B. Thorpe, a veteran em- 
ployee in the Custom House : — 

"The Collector shall receive all reports, manifests, 
and documents to be made or exhibited on the entry 
of any ship or vessel ; shall record, on books to be 
kept for that purpose, all manifests ; shall receive the 
entries of all ships or vessels, and of the goods, wares 
and merchandise imported in them ; shall estimate the 
amount of the duties payable thereupon, indorsing 
said amount on the respective entries; shall receive 
all moneys paid for duties, and take all bonds for se- 
curing the payment thereof; shall, with the approba- 
tion of the Secretary of the Treasury, employ proper 
personages, weighers, gangers, measurers and inspec- 
tors, at the port within his district. 

" The Naval Officer shall receive copies of all mani- 
fests and entries on all goods, wares and merchandise 
subject to duty (and no duties shall be received with- 
out such estimate), and shall keep a separate record 
thereof; and shall countersign all permits, clearances, 
certificates, debentures, and other documents granted 
by the Collector. He shall also examine the Collec- 
tor's abstract of duties, his accounts, receipts, bonds 
and expenditures, and, if found correct, shall certify 
to the same. 

"The Surveyor shall superintend and direct all 
inspectors, weighers, measurers, and gaugers ; shall 
visit and inspect the ships and vessels; shall return in 
writing every morning, to the Collector, the name and 



INSPECTORS BOARDINC; A VESSEL. 305 

nationality of all vessels which shall have arrived from 
foreign ports ; shall examine all goods, wares and mer- 
chandise imported, to see that they agree with the In- 
spector's returns; and shall see that all goods intended 
for exportation correspond with the entries and per- 
mits granted therefor; and the said Surveyor shall, in 
all cases, be subject to the Collector, 

"The xA.ppraiser's department is simply for the pur- 
pose of deciding the market value and dutiable char- 
acter of all goods imported, so that the imposts can be 
laid with correctness. Other than this, it has no con- 
nection with the Custom House." 

The Barge office is located at the Battery, and is a 
handsome granite edifice. It is described in connec- 
tion with the Battery Park, in another chapter. It is 
the headquarters of the Inspectors connected with the 
Surveyor's office. When the arrival of a steamer or 
vessel from a foreign port is announced by the tele- 
graph operator at Sandy Hook, several Inspectors are 
sent down in a revenue tug to take charge of her. 
As soon as they go on board the vessel they have 
absolute control of her passengers and cargo. Should 
the vessel be a steamer from abroad, they accompany 
her to her anchorage in the river, examine the baggage 
of the passengers, and take charge of all containing 
dutiable articles; see that the proper duties are levied 
and collected, and if the amount of the duties exceeds 
a certain sum, send the trunks or parcels to the public 
store for appraisement. They remain on the vessel 
until she reaches her landing, and then turn her over 
to the Custom House officials appointed to supervise 
the dischargee of her carg-o. 

20 



306 NEW YORK. 

The formalities of passing goods through the Cus- 
tom House are tedious and vexatious. Merchants and 
others in the city having such matters on their hands 
employ a "Custom House Broker," who, however, has 
no official connection with the Custom House, to attend 
to the details for them. The broker is familiar with 
all the ins and outs of the great establishment, pos- 
sesses peculiar facilities -for the prompt despatch o/ his 
work, and is not subject to the delays and annoyances 
which await a private individual. His fee for passing 
an entry is five dollars, and on busy days he frequently 
earns several hundred dollars in this way. 

The portion of the Custom House building most 
familiar to the general public is the rotunda. In the 
centre of this hall are the enclosed desks of the officials 
whose duties bring them in constant contact with mer- 
chants, shippers, captains of vessels, and all who have 
business with the establishment. They consist of four 
"Deputy Collectors," three "Chief Clerks," five "Entry 
Clerks," two "Bond Clerks," and a "Foreign-Clearance 
Clerk," and his assistant, 

Tammany Hall stands on the North side of East 
Fourteenth street, between Irving place and Third 
avenue, and adjoins the Acadeftiy of Music. It is a 
large, plain structure of red brick with white marble 
trimmings, and possesses no architectural attractions. 
It is the property of the Tammany Society, a political 
organization, and the controlling element of the 
Democratic party in municipal affairs. It contains 
a fine hall on the second floor, used for public meet- 
ings, and formerly occupied as a theatre, and several 
other smaller halls, and a number of committee rooms. 



THE TAMMANY SOCIETY. 



307 



One of the smaller halls, opening on Fourteenth street, 
on the second floor, is used as a German variety 
theatre. 

The "Tammany Society, or Columbian Order," was 
incorporated in 1 789 as a benevolent institution, but at 
an early day degenerated into a polidcal organization, 




STEINVVAY HALL. 



and gave the name of its building to the ruling sec- 
tion of the Democratic party. The organization of 
the Society is still maintained distinct from the po- 
litical party, but as a matter of fact, scarcely any one 
but a member of the Tammany General Committee is 
elected a member of the Society. The members are 
divided into two classes, known as "Braves" and 



308 NEW YORK. 

"Sachems." New members are admitted from time 
to time, and the Society is self-perpetuating. The 
Sachems constitute the governing class, and are the 
trustees of the property of the Society. The chief 
officer is called the "Grand Sachem," and his subordi- 
nates are designated by Indian titles. As a political 
organization, "Tammany Hall" is said to be the best 
disciplined body in the* Union. It is governed by 
a Central Committee of over iioo members, under 
which are City Committees in every ward of the Me- 
tropolis. In municipal politics it is all-powerful, and 
controls fully one-half of the lawful votes of the city. 
In its practical workings "Tammany Hall" is ruled by 
one man, who is naturally the shrewdest and most 
energetic of its leaders. He is popularly termed "The 
Boss." In the days of his glor}^ this position was held 
by "Boss Tweed." At present, Mr. John Kelly is re- 
garded as "The Boss" of Tammany. 

The Cooper Union occupies the triangular space 
formed by the junction of the Bowery, Third and 
Fourth avenues and 17th street, one square east of 
Broadway. It is a plain but massive and imposing 
edifice of brownstone, six stories high, with a large 
basement below the level of the streets. It was erect- 
ed by Peter Cooper in 1857, at a cost of ^630,000, and 
was endowed by him with ^150,000, for the support of 
the free reading room and library. The street floor is 
let out in stores, and the floor above is occupied with 
offices of various kinds. These floors and the great 
hall in the basement yield a handsome revenue, which 
is devoted to paying a part of the expenses of the 
institution. The remainder of the buildinof is devoted 



COOPER UNION. 



309 



to a free library and reading- room, and halls for lectures 
and for study. 

The institution was designed by Mr. Cooper for the 
free instruction of the working classes in science, art, 
English literature, the foreign languages, and telegraphy. 
Of late years there has been added to it a school of 




COOPER rMION. 



design for women. The course of instruction is very 
thorough, the ablest teachers being employed, and the 
standard of scholarship is high. Searching and rigid 
examinations test the proficiency of the pupils, and the 
graduates are sent forth into the world thoroughl}- 
prepared in the branches taught here. Mr. Cooper's 
plans have been ably carried out by the teachers in 



;310 NEW YORK. 

charge of the institution, and he has Hved to see his 
noble work one of the crowning glories of the Metropo- 
lis. The library contains about 15,000 volumes of 
miscellaneous works, and the reading room nearly 300 
daily and weekly papers and magazines, both domestic 
and foreio^n. Durino- the winter months free lectures 
are delivered in the hall in the basement, on popular 
and instructive subjects, to crowded audiences. The 
annual cost of maintaining the institution is about 
;^45,ooo. It is derived principally from the rental of the 
stores and offices, and the interest on the endowment 
fund. 

The Bible House stands immediately facing the 
Cooper Union, and occupies the entire block bounded 
by Third and Fourth avenues and 8th and 9th streets. 
It is a massive structure of red brick, covers an area 
of three-quarters of an acre, and is six stories in height. 
It was erected in 1852 and 1853, ^^ a cost of $303,000, 
but is to-day worth more than twice that sum. It is 
the property of the American Bible Society, and besides 
the portion occupied by that organization, contains fifty 
stores and offices, which return a rental of more tlian 
$40,000. Many of the stores on the ground floor are 
occupied by dealers in religious books, and the offices 
are mainly taken up by benevolent and charitable so- 
cieties. The greater portion of the building is occu- 
pied by the offices, the printing establishment, and the 
bindery of the American Bible Society. Over six hun- 
dred persons are employed in these establishments, 
and six thousand Bibles are printed, and three hundred 
and fifty Bibles are bound and finished, and sent to the 
warerooms every day. The Bible is printed here in 



NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN. 311 

twenty-nine different languages, and portions of it have 
been published in other languages still. The Society 
possesses a magnificent library upon biblical subjects, 
among which is one of* the largest and most complete 
and valuable collections of the Scriptures in existence. 
The receipts of the Society from 1 8 1 6, the date of its 
organization, to 1876, exceeded ^17,000,000. In the 
sixty-three years following its organization it printed 
and circulated 36,052,169 copies of the Scriptures. 

The National Academy of Design is located at the 
northwest corner of Fourth avenue and 23d street, and 
is one of the most beautiful and artistic buildinos in 
New York. It is built in the pure Gothic style of the 
thirteenth century, and is constructed of gray and white 
marble and bluestone, artistically blended, and pro- 
ducing a novel and pleasing effect. The 23d street front 
is eighty feet, and the Fourth avenue side ninety feet in 
length. A double flight of steps leads to the main en- 
trance, and is ornamented with beautiful carvincrs and 
a drinking fountain, all of which blend harmoniously 
with the general design. The main entrance, on 23d 
street, leads to a handsome vestibule, paved with varie- 
gated marbles. From this a massive and imposing 
stairway leads to the exhibition galleries, which are lo- 
cated in the third story and lighted from the roof. The 
first and second stories are devoted to the reception 
room, offices, lecture rooms, art schools, and the library. 
All the halls and rooms are finished handsomely in 
white pine, ash, mahogany, oak, and black walnut, in 
their natural colors, no paint being used on the wood- 
work of the building. 

The Academy is designed for the free instruction of 



312 



NEW YORK. 



Students in painting and sculpture. The schools open 
on the first Monday in October, and close on the first 
of June in the following year. Great care is exercised 
ki the admission of pupils, as it»is designed to restrict 
the schools to those who intend to make art the pro- 
fession of their lives. The course of instruction is 
tliorough, and is conducted by artists of national repu- 




NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN. 



tation. An exhibition of new paintings is held in the 
Spring of each year, and is open to the public upon 
payment of a small admission fee. Only the works of 
living American artists are exhibited. During the first 
three days, known respectively as "Artists' Day," 
"Varnishing Day," and "Private View," no one is 
admitted without a card of invitation from a member 
of the Academy. These days are noted events in 



YOUNG MEN S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION. 313 

fashionable society, and invitations are eagerly sought 
after by the Upper Ten. 

The Young Mens Christian Association Bzdlding 
stands opposite the Academy of Design, on the south- 
west corner of Fourth avenue and Twenty-third street. 
It is four stories in height, with a mansard roof, broken 
by three domes, containing a fifth story. The building 
is constructed of dark New Jersey sandstone, brought 
from the Belleville quarries, is in the French renais- 
sance style, and was erected in 1869, at a cost of 
^500,000. It is handsomely trimmed with light Ohio 
stone. It has a frontage of one hundred and seventy- 
five feet on Twenty-third street, and eighty-three 
feet on Fourth avenue. The Association occupies 
the second and third floors, while the fourth and 
fifth floors are taken up chiefly with artists' studios, 
and the ground floor is occupied with handsome stores. 
The leased portions of the building return a rental of 
about ^13,000 per annum. 

The main entrance is in the centre of the Twenty- 
third street front. A broad, handsome stairway leads 
to the second floor, on which is situated the main hall, 
which occupies the western portion of this and the 
third story. It is one of the largest and handsomest 
halls in the city, and will comfortably seat 1 500 people. 
It is two stories in height, and is beautifully and taste- 
fully decorated. A broad gallery extends around 
three sides of the hall, and this and the floor below are 
provided with iron chairs, such as are used in the 
principal theatres. At the western end is a large plat- 
form upon w^hich opens a retiring room. On the side 
of the platform opposite the retiring room is the great 



314 NEW YORK. 

organ, one of the finest instruments in the city. The 
hall is used for lectures and 'concerts during the fall, 
winter, and spring, and on Sunday religious services are 
conducted here by eminent divines invited by a com- 
mittee of the Association for that purpose. 

The remainder of the second floor is occupied by the 
reception room, the social parlor, the office of the 
Secretary, who is the executive officer of the Associa- 
tion, and the reading room, v^hich is liberally supplied 
with files of the leading American and foreign papers 
and magazines. A stairway leads from the reception 
room to the basement, in which are located the bowl- 
ing alley and gymnasium. The eastern portion of the 
third floor is taken up with the library, containing 
about 1300 volumes, and rooms for Bible class and 
prayer meetings and for instruction in modern langua- 
ges and other studies. Bath rooms and other toilet 
conveniences are provided in the building. All the 
appointments are complete, handsome and elegant. 

The building is the property of the New York 
branch of the Young Men's Christian Association, an 
organization too well known throughout the country to 
need a description here. It is open every day, from 8 
A. M. to 10 p. M., except on Sunday, when the hours 
are from 2 to 7 p. m. It is a sort of moral oasis to 
young men in the great wilderness of New York ; a 
refuge from the temptations and dissipations by which 
they are surrounded. While it has a fixed scale of 
charges, moderate in amount, for membership, it cor- 
dially opens its doors to all, especially to young men 
living in the city, away from their homes, and subject 
to the demoralizing influences of hotel and boarding- 



GRAND CENTRAL DEPOT. 315 

house life. Strangers sojourning- in the city are es- 
pecially welcome. The Association is also actively 
engaged in many noble works of charity. A writer in 
Hai'pers Magazine styles the Association Building a 
"club house." "For such it is," he declares, "both in 
its appliances and its purposes, though consecrated 
neither to politics, as are some; to social festivities, de- 
generating too often into gambling and intemperance, 
as are others ; nor to literature and polite society, as 
are one or two ; but to the cause of good morals, of 
pure religion, and of Him who is the divine inspirer 
of the one and the divine founder of the other. 

The Grand Central Depot, at the corner of Fourth 
avenue and 42d street, and extending from Fourth to 
Vanderbilt avenues, and from 42d to 45th streets, is 
one of the most imposing edifices in New York, and 
the most superb and complete railway terminus in 
America. With the exception of the old Hudson River 
Railroad Depot, at Ninth avenue and 30th street, now 
used for suburban trains only, it is the only railway 
station in the city. It is built of red brick, with iron 
trimmings, painted in imitation of white marble. Three 
massive pavilions adorn the 42 d street front, and two 
the Vanderbilt avenue front, the central pavilion of each 
front being provided with an ornamental illuminated 
clock. The building is six hundred and ninety-six feet 
long, and two hundred and forty feet wide. The space 
devoted to the railway tracks under the great roof is 
six hundred and ten feet lonor and two hundred feet 
wide. Twelve trains, each consisting of a locomotive 
and twelve passenger cars, can be admitted side by 
side at one time in the depot. The tracks and plat- 



316 NEW YORK. 

forms are sheltered by an immense glass and iron roof, 
of a single arch, with a span of two hundred feet and 
a height of one hundred and ten feet. The offices, 
baggage and waiting-rooms, etc., are located in the 
southern end and the western side. Besides these, the 
basement contains a police station, barber shop, and 
restaurant. 

The depot is occupied by four important lines of 
railways. The 426. street front contains the offices, 
waitinof and bagforaije-rooms of the New York, New 
Haven and Boston, and the Shore Line Railroads ; 
and the Vanderbilt avenue, or western side, is taken 
up with the offices, baggage and waiting-rooms of the 
New York, Harlem and Albany, and the Hudson 
River and New York Central Railroads, the rooms of 
each road being entirely separated from those of the 
other. The upper floors of the building are occupied 
by the offices of the various railway companies. All 
the apartments in the great structure are handsomely 
frescoed, finished in hard wood, and provided with 
every convenience. 

The car house, which comprises the principal portion 
of the depot, is very handsome. The roof is supported 
by thirty-one ornamental iron trusses, each one of 
which weighs forty tons and forms a single arch stretch- 
ing from side to side. Eighty thousand feet of glass 
admit the light of day, and at night the place is bril- 
liandy illuminated by gas jets supplied with large reflec- 
tors and lit by electricity. The platforms between the 
tracks and on the sides are constructed of a light- 
colored stone. Each road has its own tracks, and so 
perfect are the arrangements of the depot, that though 



318 NEW YORK. 

one hundred and twenty-five trains arrive and depart 
daily, there is no confusion. The running of the trains 
is regulated by the depot master, who occupies a lofty 
box or office at the north end of the station, from 
which he can command a view of the various roads as 
far as the entrance to the tunnels, half a mile distant. 
A system of automatic signals governs the movements 
of all trains from the depot to the Harlem River. 

This great building was begun on the 1 5th of Novem- 
ber, 1869, and was completed on the 9th of October, 
1 87 1. It was projected by and erected under the 
supervision of the late Commodore Vanderbilt. 

In the yards to the north of the depot are numerous 
buildings for the shelter of cars and locomotives, coal 
sheds and repair shops. The tracks beyond the depot 
being for several squares on a level with the street, a 
number of bridges, built over the tracks, continue the 
lines of the various cross streets from one side of 
Fourth avenue to the other. Above the depot Fourth 
avenue is in a perfectly straight line, and along it the 
trains run to Harlem River, which is four and a half 
miles above the depot. For a mile and a half above 
the point where the trains pass entirely below the 
street level, the road bed, containing two tracks", is 
within an open cut flanked on each side by a tunnel, 
built of brick, and having within it another single track. 
The cross streets are carried over the cut on iron or 
brick arches, while iron railings extend all around the 
cut, fencing it off from the avenue, which is wide enough 
to provide a good-sized roadway for driving, and the 
usual sidewalks for pedestrians on each side of the cut. 
Above this mile and a half the street level gradually 



THE FIFTH AVENUE TUNNELS. 319 

becomes much higher, and the road bed of die railways 
runs for half a mile dirough a pardy brick built and 
pardy rock cut tunnel, at the upper end of which the 
street level makes a sudden descent, and the road bed 
is carried over the Harlem Flats on a stone viaduct, 
the cross streets passing underneath, through arches. 
When the street level again ascends, about a mile and 
a quarter from the Harlem River, the road bed is 
again run through an open cut, like that just above the 
depot." 



320 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XX. 

NEW year's calls. 
NEW York's great festal day— preparations for new year's day— the haik-dressers' 

ROUNDS — reception CARDS— HOW THEY ARE ISSUED — JOINT RECEPTIONS — THE CARD-BAS- 
KET AND ITS MEANING— ladies' TOILETS— A CHANCE FOR REFORM— THE FIRST CALLERS — 
THE VETERANS — ADVANTAGES OF A LIST — SCENES TOWARD NIGHTFALL — TOO MUCH PUNCH — 
MRS. B.'S RECEPTION — A SWEET FINALE— NEW YEAR IN THE KITCHEN— HOW THE SALOONS 
CELEBRATE THE DAY — REFRESHMENTS AND PUNCH FOR ALL— NEW YORK WITH A HEAD- 
ACHE — ladies' DAY. 

The Christmas festivities are scarcely over, when 
New York again puts on its hoHday attire, and pre- 
pares to celebrate in hearty style its own peculiar day 
— the first day of the New Year. Since the settlement 
of the colony by the Dutch, the first of January has 
been set apart by the dwellers in the metropolis for 
social observance, for renewing former friendships, 
streno-theninor old ones, and wishing each other health 
and happiness for the year just opening. The custom 
is a pleasing one, but it is observed now in a manner 
that would make the old Knickerbockers roll their eyes 
in surprise could they but look upon it. 

Among the middle classes and the steadier-going 
citizens. New Year's Day is observed with hearti- 
ness, but also with characteristic good sense. It is 
only after we enter the charmed realm of society that 
we find the glare and the show that have given to the 
day its peculiar characteristics. With the Upper-Ten- 
Thousand it is made the occasion of displaying the 
wealth and style of the family, and of impressing the 



PREPARING TO RECEIVE. 321 

callers with a proper sense of its importance in the 
social world 

Long before Christmas preparations are beo-un for 
the great event, houses are cleaned, garnished, and 
put in apple-pie order. If new furniture is needed, its 
purchase is postponed until the last of the old year, in 
order that it may shine forth in all its splendor at the 
beginning of the new. The dressmakers are busy pre- 
paring magnificent costumes for the occasion, and the 
tailors have all they can do to provide the gentlemen 
with new outfits in which to make their calls. Car- 
riages are engaged for weeks beforehand, and enor- 
mous prices are charged for them, as much as forty or 
fifty dollars being paid for a vehicle for the day. From 
five to ten dollars an hour is the usual charge. Hair- 
dressers are busy going from house to house, arrang- 
ing the coiffures of the ladies. They begin their rounds 
at midnight on the 31st of December, and are busy 
until noon the next day. Those who are so unfortu- 
nate as to be among the first served by these ''artistes 
in hair," have a hard time of it. They cannot think of 
lying down, as to do so would be to disarrange their 
hair, so they must either keep awake all night, or sleep 
sitting bolt upright in a chair. 

Ladies who intend to " receive," often club together 
at the residence of one of the party and hold a joint 
reception. This is rather hard on the average caller, 
especially towards the later hours of the day. A gentle- 
man calls at a house, expecting to pay his respects to 
Mrs. A., the mistress of the establishment. He finds 
associated with her Mrs. B., Mrs. C, and perhaps Mrs. 
D., to each of whom he must pay his respects and get 
21 



322 NEW YORK. 

off his prettiest sayings. On such occasions the mat- 
ters are wholly in the hands of the ladies of the house. 
The male members of the family are out making calls 
at other residences, and the ladies have things all their 
own way. 

Of late years, ladies who desire a long list of callers 
— and the larger the list the greater the social eclat — 
issue cards a week or so prior to the first of January, 
a virtual invitation to the person receiving one to call 
on New Year's Day. The consequence is, that Tom, 
Dick, and Harry pull the bells of houses they never 
saw before, are greeted by ladies they may or may not 
know, and are, as a rule, prepared to meet their hostess 
on just such terms as her unsolicited acquaintance and 
advances would apparently warrant. This is on a par 
with a habit some very young men have of " pooling 
their lists." Mr. A. knows twenty ladies, Mr. B. the 
same number, Mr. C. thirty, and Mr. D. twenty-five. 
The quartette hire a carriage together, put their lists in 
one, and rush around frantically from house to house, 
each introducing the others to his friends in turn. 
Nowadays the Elevated Railroads save the young men 
considerable expense in carriage hire. They can get 
about the city very quickly by means of these rapid 
trains, and as the lines run but a short distance from 
the fashionable thoroughfares, the walk before them is 
short. 

It has become the custom for families who do not 
intend to receive callers to close the front of the house 
and suspend a small card-basket from the front door 
knob. Visitors at once take the hint, drop their cards 
into the basket, and pass on. Sometimes the mansion 



ladies' new year toilettes. 323 

thus closed is one famous for its bountifully-spread 
table. In such cases the visitor is not a little put out 
by the reflection that the failure of the family to ob- 
serve "the time-honored custom" has cut him out of a 
" royal feed." » 

Ten o'clock is the earliest hour at which Society 
permits calls to be paid. The most exclusive do not 
open their doors until noon. Then the stream of 
visitors begins to set in, and continues until eight or 
nine o'clock. 

The parlors of the mansions where calls are expected 
are lavishly adorned with flowers, and a handsome 
table is spread, provided with all the delicacies of the 
season, and rare and costly wines, and punch. In 
the more exclusive dwellinofs the curtains are down 
and the gas lighted. The ladies of the family, ravish- 
ingly dressed, take their stand in the drawing-room 
and await their visitors. The dresses are all new for 
the occasion — that is, what there is of them. They 
are full and elaborate below the waist, but above that 
there is a plentiful lack of dry goods, and a liberal 
display of neck, arms and shoulders. Gazing at these 
marvelously attired creatures, one cannot help calling 
to mind the words of the great Dr. Johnson to the 
equally great David Garrick: "Davy, I shan't come 
behind the scenes at your theatre any more — the silk 
stockings and white bosoms of your actresses excite 
my amatory propensities, and render me unfit for work 
on the dictionary." 

Amid all the outcry for reform on these occasions, 
why does not some one propose a reform in the matter 
of feminine toilettes at New Year receptions? Is it 



324 NEW YORK. 

Strange that some very young men, whose weak heads 
have been dazed by the numerous healths they have 
drank during the day, shoukl, in the presence of so 
many charms, occasionally forget where they are? 

In a little while the first caller is announced by the 
servant in charge of the front door. He divests him- 
self of his hat and overcoat in the hall, and enters the 
presence of the ladies. The first ones are generally 
young men who are anxious to make as many calls as 
possible, and start out early. The old stagers do not 
come upon the scene until later in the day. The 
visitor advances to the hostess, pays his respects to 
her and the other ladies present, wishes them a happy 
New Year, and utters a few common-places on the 
weather. The hostess responds pleasantly, and invites 
the gentleman to partake of some of the refreshments 
spread before him, including a glass of wine or punch, 
and smiles quietly at the eagerness with which he 
responds to her invitation. The refreshments are 
swallowed hurriedly, the visitor winds up with a few 
complimentary phrases, which he repeats at every 
house he visits, until the wine and the punch have 
driven them from his memory, and bows himself out, 
leaving the ladies to pick his character to pieces when 
he is gone. Other callers follow in rapid succession, 
and the same scene is repeated until the night ends the 
farce. The young men eat litde and drink much at 
such visits. The veteran caller, however, knows where 
the best tables are spread, and the hostess' heart 
warms to see the ample justice he does to her good 
taste. He drinks little, and so keeps his head cool, 
and during the day manages to get three or four good 



326 NEW YORK. 

square meals, under the pretence of partaking of re- 
freshments. 

Most of the men, in starting out on their calls, make 
out a list of the houses they intend to visit. This is 
given to the driver of the carriage occupied, and he 
follows it in the order in which it is made out. Now 
this is a wise precaution. Few men could trust their 
memories with so many names, and towards the end 
of the day, when the wine and the punch have done 
their work, memory is incapable of performing any of 
her functions, and the list becomes a necessity. Some- 
times, when the list is almost used up, and the caller is 
in the same condition, the driver leads him from the 
carriao^e to the door of the next mansion to be visited, 
rings the bell, and thrusts him inside. Be not too 
quick, oh reader, to commend the tender care of said 
driver. The door remains open long enough for him 
to catch a glimpse of what follows, and you may be 
very sure he is repaid by the fun that ensues. 

The scene towards the close of the day, in some of 
the splendid mansions of the upper ten, is one that 
must be witnessed to be appreciated. The ladies are 
worn out with fatigue, and bored to death by the stu- 
pidity of their visitors. Carriages rattle up furiously; 
young men in various stages of booziness are ushered 
in. Some are dreamy and melancholy, and hold on 
firmly to a chair or the corner of the table while 
endeavoring to get out their set speeches; others are 
merry and boisterous; others still are disposed to be a 
little too friendly with the ladies. It may be that the 
ladies themselves have had too much punch — such 
things do happen. And then the scene is indescrib- 



BEWILDERED CALLERS. 



327 



ably ludicrous. These late visitors leer vag-ucly at the 
hostess and her companions, mutter their compliments 
and good wishes in thick, unsteady voices, gulp down 




A CALLER WHO HAS HAD " TOO MUCH PUNCH." 



the liquors offered them, and stagger out into the hall 
where the servant assists them in making their way out. 
Sometimes a gentleman who has paid a large number 
of calls falls helpless at the feet of the hostess, and has 



328 NEW YORK. 

to be assisted by the serv^ants to his carriage. They 

tell a story in New York of a certain Mrs. B , one 

of the latest new comers In the avenue. Of her oricrin 
it is needless to speak; her peculiar brogue told the 
story of that. Having no daughters of her own, she 
induced two of her lady friends, like herself new stars 
in the firmament of fashion, to assist her at her first 
reception. They had scores of callers, and the recep- 
tion lasted late into the evening. It ended with the ser- 
vants closing the house, and leaving the hostess, her 
fair friends, and several gentlemen callers, comfortably 
settled in sofas and arm chairs — one was on the floor, 
where they passed the remainder of the night. It was 
the old story — too much champagne and punch. 

No one loses caste In society for these little indiscre- 
tions, however. Society is charitable, and the parties 
are readily pardoned for "what might occur to any 
one." 

While these things are going on above stairs, the 
kitchen Is doing Its full share In the proper observance 
of the day. Biddy sets a fine table for her own callers, 
and a travesty of the scenes in the drawing room is 
enacted in the kitchen below — all at the master's 
expense. Trust Biddy for looking after that. 

Those who have no friends to call upon may be sup- 
posed to feel lonely on New Year's day. Not so. The 
free lunch tables of the bar rooms are bountifully 
spread, and are open to all comers. True, the liquors 
used must be paid for, and are not quite as good in 
quality as those provided gratis in the avenue man- 
sions, but enough is dispensed to repay the saloon 
keeper for his ouday upon the lunch table. The fun 



ladies' day. 329 

is rather more uproarious than in the drawing room, 
and sometimes degenerates into a free fight, which the 
poHce are called upon to stop. But all who wish to be 
merry, and do homage to "the time-honored custom," 
can find ample opportunity to indulge their inclinations, 
in one way or another, on this festal day. 

January the 2d finds Young New York with a head- 
ache, and the older part used up with fatigue. This is 
"Ladies' Day," and is devoted by the fair sex to calling 
upon each other, exchanging notes as to the receptions 
of the previous day, imbibing more punch, and swallow- 
ing more refreshments. The balance of the week is 
spent in recovering from the effects of two days of hard 
social work, and in preparing for the round of fashion- 
able dissipation, which fills up the balance of the 
winter. 



330 NEW YORK 



CHAPTER XXL 

AMONG THE BULLS AND BEARS OF WALL STREET. 

DESCRIPTION OF WALL STREET — VALUE OF REAL ESTATE — ENORMOUS RENTS — ORIGIN OF THE 
NAME OF THE STREET — NOTABLE BUILDINGS — TRANSACTIONS OF THE STREET — THE SCENE 
AT NOON — THE STOCK EXCHANGE — THE LONG ROOM — OUTSIDE DEALERS — THE REGULAR 
BOARD — HOW BUSINESS IS CONDUCTED IN THE EXCHANGE — THE VICE-PRESIDENT — RULES OF 
THE EXCHANGE — GOOD FAITH EXACTED OF ITS MEMBERS — THE GOVERNMENT BOARD — 
CHARACTERISTIC SCENES — THE VAULTS AND THEIR TREASURES — THE TELEGRAPH INSTRU- 
MENTS — THE "tickers" — LIFE OF A STOCK BROKER — SPORTS OF THE EXCHANGE — THE 
CLEARING HOUSE AND ITS OPERATIONS — CURBSTONE BROKERS — RECKLESS TRANSACTIONS- 
STOCK SPECULATIONS — BUYING AND SELLING ON COMMISSION — UNCERTAINTIES OF THE 
STREET — HOW FORTUNES ARE MADE AND LOST ON WALL STREET^STOCK GAMBLING — WHO 
ARE THE SPECULATORS — A DARING BROKER — " BLACK FRIDAY " — HOW AN OPERATOR WAS 
RUINED — STOCK SWINDLERS — SHARPERS IN WALL STREET — THE COMBINATION SYSTEM — A 
BAREFACED SWINDLE — ACTION OF THE GENERAL GOVERNMENT — HOW BOGUS OPERATORS 
FLEECE UNSUSPECTING CUSTOMERS — AN INSIDE VIEW OF THE COMBINATION SYSTEM — 
ENORMOUS PROFITS — THE SWINDLE EXPOSED — A WARNING TO WOULD-BE SPECULATORS. 



WALL STREET. 

Wall Street, the financial centre, not only of New 
York, but of the New World, is but half a mile in 
length, and is one of the narrowest thoroughfares in 
the Great City. It commences on the East side of 
Broadway, opposite Trinity Church, and runs direct to 
the East River, gradually sloping from its Western end 
towards the water. It is handsomely built up along 
the greater part of its course, and contains some of the 
most elegant buildings in the city. Marble, brown- 
stone and brick are the materials chiefly used, iron 
finding no favor in the financial heart of the city. The 
buildings are used for banks, brokers', lawyers' offices, 
and as the headquarters of some of the greatest cor- 



WALL STREET. 661 

porations in the Union. The street contains the Stock 
Exchange, the United States Sub-Treasury and Assay 
Office, and the Custom House. All the buildings, 
with the exception of those just named, are filled from 
top to bottom with offices. Land is more valuable 
here than in any other section of the city; even Broad- 
way prices for real estate sink into insignificance when 
compared with those demanded in Wall street. Rents 
are in proportion, and the cost of a comfortable dwell- 
ing house is often paid for a year's use of a small 
office in a desirable location. Landlords reap a rich 
harvest here. Brokers must be close to the Stock 
Exchange, and the lawyers doing business here must 
be near their clients. These classes pay any rent 
asked in order to hold their places. 

The streets intersecting Wall street. are lined for 
several blocks with banks, bankers' and brokers' offices, 
and are all included in the general term "Wall Street," 
in dealing with financial matters. Even Broad street 
is absorbed in the term, and yields precedence to its 
smaller rival. 

Wall street derives its name from the fact that 
under the rule of the Dutch, the northern wall of the 
city followed the line now pursued by the street. 
Long before the advent of the English, houses sprang 
up on each side of the wall, and the open space between 
them became a well traveled street, known as "Long 
de Wal," which was afterwards changed to the present 
name, Wall street. The wall was demolished in 1 699, 
and the stones were used to build a Town Hall, which 
stood on the site of the present United States Sub- 
Treasury. Prior to the Revolution, the lower part of 



332 NEW YORK. 

the street was occupied by rows of stores, from the 
river to Front Street, while the upper part, to Broad- 
way, was taken up with dwellings. In 1 791 the Bank 
of New York was erected at the corner of William 
street, and gave the signal for the removal of the 
residences and the conversion of the street into the 
centre of financial operations. The change was soon 
accomplished, and by 1825 the entire street was given 
over to the destiny which has since attended it. 

On the south side of the street, a short distance be- 
low Broadway, is the Wall street front of the Stock 
Exchange, built of white marble and ver}' handsome, 
but not so imposing as the Broad street front. On 
the northeast corner of Nassau street is the Sub- 
Treasury, a noble edifice of white marble, built in the 
Doric style of architecture, with an imposing portico 
reached from the street by a broad flight of marble 
stairs. Next door is the Assay Office, a branch of the 
Sub-Treasur)', but a more modest edifice of granite. 
Immediately opposite is the finest private banking 
house in the Union. It is built of white marble, and 
fronts on both Wall and Broad streets. It is owned 
by the Drexels, who here conduct the New York 
branch of their enormous business. It is said that the 
ground on which it stands brought the highest price 
ever paid for land in New York. On the south side 
of the street, occupying an irregular block bounded by 
Wall street, Exchange Place, William and Hanover 
streets, is the Custom House, a stately edifice of 
granite, once known and used as the Merchants' Ex- 
change. Just below, on the same side of Wall street, 
is the beautiful marble bankingr house of Brown 



THE WALL STREET OF TU-DAY. 333 

Brothers. All along the street are banks, with vaults 
stored with almost fabulous wealth, and offices occupied 
by men whose names are powers in the financial world. 
The transactions of "The Street" foot up an almost 
fabulous sum daily, and the mind fairly staggers under 
the weight of the figures which represent the aggregate 
of the business done here year by year. From 9 a. m. 
to 4 p. M. on week days, the financial transactions ar- 
ranged here exceed those of all the financial exchanges 
in all the other cities of the Union. 

The proper time to see Wall street in its glory is 
high noon. From the steps of the Sub-Treasury an 
admirable view is obtained of both Wall and Broad 
streets, with their busy, eager throngs, all bent on 
making money. Bank messengers, with bags filled 
with coin, greenbacks, bills of exchange, bonds, and 
stocks, hurry along, keeping a firm grip upon their bags 
and eyeing each person they pass warily; office boys, 
telegraph boys with yellow envelopes containing mes- 
sages from all quarters of the globe, dart here and 
there through the throng, and quiet, unobtrusive 
detectives stroll leisurely along the sidewalks, on the 
alert to discover and prevent any attempt at street rob- 
beries. The great centre of attraction is the Broad 
street front of the Stock Exchange, where a stalwart 
policeman stands guard at the entrance, to keep out 
unauthorized visitors. The steps, the sidewalk and the 
street are black with a strucro-linor shrlekinor mass of 
"Curbstone Brokers," who are doing quite as lively, 
althoucrh not so reliable, a business as that which is 
going on within the Exchange. Long rows of cabs 
stand In Broad street awaitincr customers. Men dart 



334 NEW YORK. 

out from the Exchange or the neighboring offices, jump 
into these vehicles and are off Hke a flash. Fast driv- 
ing is not noticed here, for time is everything. Over- 
head stretches a vast network of telegraph wires, look- 
ing like a gigantic cobweb, each and all throbbing 
messages that may affect the fate of millions. Over 
all come floating the sweet tones of the chimes of old 
Trinity, sounding clear and strong above the rattle and 
roar of the street, telling that time is passing, and 
eternity is drawing near for some of the busy schemers 
in this great realm of Mammon. 

II. 

THE NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE. 

The Stock Exchange of New York is located on 
Broad street, and extends back to New street. It has 
also an L running through to Wall street, where the 
visitors' entrance is located. It is a handsome buildinof 
of white marble, and the Broad street entrance is orna- 
mented with a fine portico of iron. The building is 
occupied by the Stock Exchange proper, the Mining 
Board, and the Government Board. During the past 
year the internal arrangements of the- building have 
been altered and improved, at great expense, and the 
Exchange is now one of the handsomest and most con- 
veniently arranged edifices in the city. 

The Broad street entrance leads directly to a large 
hall on the street floor. This is "The Lonof Room," and 
is devoted to the irregular sales of stocks which are 
not included among;- the transactions of the exchange 
proper. Any one, by paying ^50, can purchase an 
annual ticket of admission to this room, and can engage 



THE STOCK EXCHANGE. 



335 



here in the purchase and sale of stocks without being 
a member of the regular board. The hall is always 
filled with a noisy crowd, yelling and gesticulating vio- 
lently, and rushing about the room like a parcel of 
lunatics. There is no regular order of proceedings. 




NEW YORK SUCK EXCHANGE. 



A dozen different stocks are being purchased and sold 
at the same moment, and only an habitue of the place 
can tell the meaning of the hideous cries and frandc 
gestures of the half crazed mob. The crowd is not 
overclean, and is in strange contrast with the natty, 



336 NEW YORK. 

sprucely dressed brokers operating In the Exchange 
above. Yet these men are equally in earnest with 
their more fortunate neighbors. Millions of dollars 
change hands here annually. No written and rigidly 
enforced code of laws governs the transactions of the 
Long Room, and you must know well the man you are 
dealingwith here. Strange faces are constantly appear- 
ing here, for the ups and downs of the room are sudden 
and sharp. A few years hence you will see some of the 
men who are now dealing largely here begging a night's 
lodging at the station house, or you may find them 
seated in the Exchange above, among the financial 
magnates of the land. 

The Stock Exchange occupies a spacious and lofty 
hall on the floor above the Long Room. It is hand- 
somely decorated, well ventilated and warmed, and 
massive and elegant gas fixtures furnish the means of 
floodingf the hall with a brilliant lieht. At one end is a 
gallery, with accommodations for about 200 persons, 
to which strangers are admitted during the sessions of 
the Board. A large platform at the opposite end of the 
hall is fitted up with handsome desks for the vice-presi- 
dent, the secretary, and the telegraph operator. On 
each side is a large blackboard on which the quota- 
tions of the day are recorded. Adjoining the hall are 
committee and cloak rooms for, the use of the members. 

The Stock Exchange Board Is regularly incorporated 
under the laws of the State of New York, and is the 
only lawful association in the city for the purchase and 
sale of stocks and bonds. It consists of 1060 members, 
who are admitted by ballot, and no one but a man of 
well-known integrity and sound financial standing can 



HOW STOCKS ARE SOLD. 337 

obtain admission to the Board. The control of the 
organization is vested in a council of forty members, 
of which the President, Secretary, and Treasurer are 
members, ex officio. A seat in the Board costs about 
$6000, and is the absolute personal property of its 
owner. He may sell or otheji^wise dispose of it as he 
would any other property belonging to him, subject 
only to the approval of the Committee on Admissions. 
In case of the death of a member, the Committee dis- 
poses of his seat, and after paying all dues and other 
claims on the part of the Exchange against him, hands 
the balance to his heirs. A member who becomes 
insolvent or fails to meet his contracts is suspended, 
and cannot be readmitted until he has made a satis- 
factory settlement with his creditors. Should he fail to 
do this, his seat Is sold, for their benefit. The Board 
requires from its members the utmost good faith in 
their transactions, and punishes any departure from 
the strictest commercial integrity. 

All stocks and bonds offered for sale in the Exchange 
are closely examined by a committee, and, none can 
be dealt in until it is found to be a bona fide security. 

Two sessions of the Board are held daily, the morn- 
ing session at half-past ten, and the afternoon session 
at one o'clock. The order of proceedings is the same 
on both occasions. Two lists of stocks, the Regular 
and the Free List, being called each time. The Regular 
List is made up in advance of the session, and must 
always be called, and called first. It is divided into five 
parts: i, Miscellaneous Stocks; 2, Railroad Stocks; 
3, State Bonds; 4, City Stocks; 5, Railroad Bonds. 

The session is called to order by the Vice-president, 
22 



338 NEW YORK. 

after which the Secretary reads the minutes of the pre- 
vious meeting. The Regular List is then called, and 
the work of the day begins. Very little interest is 
manifested in the call of miscellaneous stocks. Bids 
are quickly made and accepted, and there is an evi- 
dent desire to get throu|di with this part of the routine 
as quickly as possible. The offers and sales are re- 
peated by the Vice-president to the Secretary as fast 
as they are made, and the transactions are recorded 
by him in the minutes, while a clerk registers them on 
the blackboard on the platform. Should a dispute 
arise as to the purchase or sale of a security, an appeal 
is made to the Vice-president, whose decision is final. 
Railroad stocks are next called, and in an instant 
the Board is in an uproar. Offers to sell and to pur- 
chase come in rapid succession, sometimes a score or 
more at a time, and are all yelled out at the top ot the 
brokers' lungs. The noise is terrific, and it seems as 
if the operators had suddenly gone mad. A stranger 
can make nothing out of this confusion, but the keen 
eye of the .Vice-president is everywhere on the throng, 
and his quick ear catches the offers and bids, and notes 
the sales, which are promptly communicated by him to 
the Secretary, who writes them down. At the same time 
the clerk records them on the official blackboard, and 
the telegraph operator flashes them to all parts of New 
York, where they are noted on the long ribbons of the 
thousands of "tickers" in the offices, hotels, saloons, 
restaurants, and bar-rooms of the city. Thanks to 
these "tickers," or recording instruments, men can 
watch the market, and buy and sell, miles away from 
the Stock Exchange, for the " ticker " keeps them in- 



FINING MEMBERS. 6'6\) 

formed, minute by minute, of the transactions there, 
and the telegraph puts them in instantaneous commu- 
nication with their brokers. 

The railroad hst completed, the excitement subsides 
somewhat, and the other portions of the regular list are 
called, arousing more or less interest, according to the 
popularity of the stock or the condition of the market. 
Then the Free List is in order, and the members can 
request the Vice-president to call such securities as 
they wish to deal in. At the close of the Free List 
members may ask for the call of some stock that has 
been hurriedly passed over in the call of the Regular 
List. This completes the work of the Board, and the 
session comes to an end. The afternoon session is but 
a repetition of the morning's proceedings. 

The Vice-president's duties are very exacting. He 
must watch the proceedings with the closest attention, 
note every transaction, report it to the Secretary for 
record, settle disputes between buyers and sellers, re- 
press all disorders, and punish all infractions of the 
rules of the Board. For the performance of these duties 
he receives a salary of ^7000 a year. By his side sits 
the roll keeper, whose business it is to record the fines 
as they are imposed upon the members by the presiding 
officer. These fines are the source of a considerable 
revenue to the Exchanofe. The sessions of the Board 
are always marked by numerous violations of its rules 
by members, for the brokers are anything but a dig- 
nified or orderly body. The average broker pays an- 
nually several hundred dollars in fines, but he consoles 
himself with the reflection that the fine he has paid, or 
the objects he has accomplished by his practical jokes, 



340 NEW YORK. 

are worth tne money. A member interrupting the 
presiding officer during a call of stocks is fined not less 
than twenty-five cents for each offence ; smoking a 
cigar in the Exchange is punished with a fine of five 
dollars; to be absent from a special meeting is to incur 
a fine of not less than five dollars ; standing on a chair 
or table costs one dollar; to throw a paper dart or 
ball at a member during the session of the Board is to 
incur a fine of ten dollars ; refusing to be quiet when 
called to order by the presiding officer, smashing a hat 
over the eyes of a member while the Board is in ses- 
sion, and sundry other offences against good order, are 
punishable with fines ranging from twenty-five cents to 
ten dollars. The fines are charged against the mem- 
bers by the roll-keeper, and must be settled once every 
six months. 

The Exchange watches carefully over the contracts 
made by its members. Its transactions are all open 
and made in good faith, and its members must live up 
to their ag-reements or leave the Board. This is not 
only a protection to the outside customers of the 
brokers, but also a safeguard thrown around the mem- 
bers themselves, as it teaches them to be cautious in 
their dealings, and to avoid risks that they cannot 
meet. 

The proceedings of the Stock Board are generally 
exciting, and often indescribably ludicrous. Yet often- 
times the fun has a deliberate commercial purpose be- 
hind it. A sudden crushing of the hat over the eyes 
of some active operator may delay or change the 
character of an important transaction in which the 
offender is interested; a disturbance by a number of 



SCENES IN THE GOVERNMENT BOARD. 341 

members acting in concert will prevent bids or offers 
from being- heard until it is too late. In such cases the 
fines imposed are cheerfully paid, the purpose of the 
disorder being generally accomplished. 

On the second floor of the Exchange building is a 
handsomely fitted up room known as "The Govern- 
ment Board." At the head of the chamber is a plat- 
form occupied by the desks of the officials and the 
telegraph instrument, and from this the seats of the 
members rise in tiers one above another. This Board 
is devoted exclusively to dealings in the bonds and 
securities of the General Government. Its organization 
and mode of procedure is similar to that of the Stock 
Board. w 

The Vice-president begins: — 

"Sixes, '8 1 registered, '8i coupon; 5-20S '82 regis- 
tered coupon. What's bid?" 

Here and there from flanking chairs come sputter- 
ing bids or offers: — 

"Ten thousand at ^, buyer three." 

"I'll give an ^, seller three for the lot." 

" ^, buyer thirty, for fifty thousand." 

" ^, regular, for any part of five thousand." 

J^irs^ Voice. — "Sold, five hundred." 

The presiding officer repeats the sale and terms, 
the Secretary makes his registry, and a new bond is 
started. 

Sometimes when 5 -20s are called, at first there is 
only one voice, which rings the changes on 

"I'll give 115. I'll give 115 for a thousand; '15 for 
a thousand." Presently, however, before any response 
follows the offer, a member in a distant corner, either 



342 NEW YORK. 

carelessly or maliciously, shouts out, "I'll give '14 for a 
thousand; '14 for a thousand." 

The Vice-President plies his hammer: "Fine Ir- 
ving — fine Irving, fifty cents." The roll keeper proceeds 
to make his little note of it, and Irving, who has 
\'iolated the rqle, founded on common sense, which 
forbids a member making a bid below or an offer 
above the one which has the floor, immediately subsides, 
amid the laughter of his neighbors. 

Occasionally an interruption of a grosser character 
occurs, a member leaping from his seat on some slight 
provocation, and striking off the hat of the man who 
has offended. "Fine Harrison; fine Harrison again ;" 
''fine, FINE him again." "Fine Harrison !" cries the Vice- 
president, repeating the word without cessation, until 
the broker's wrath has been appeased and he returns 
to his chair with the disagreeable reflection that a 
heavy score is against him for the semi-annual settle- 
ment day. Every repetition of that fatal monosyllable 
was a fresh mark of fifty cents or a dollar against his 
name. Generally, however, the Government brokers 
are more orderly than their neighbors in the Regular 
Board. Indeed, the whole proceedings are more 
decorous and respectful, the bidding, half the time, 
beinof carried on in a low conversational tone. At 
second call there is a brief excitement, but when things 
are dull throughout the street, this room peculiarly 
reflects the external influences. 

Very different it is, however, on days when some 
special cause provokes great fluctuations. Then the 
members spring from their seats, arms, hands, excitable 
faces, rapid vociferations, all come in play, and the ele- 



TUK Sroi'K IKl.lUiKAl'll. 1543 

ment or paiiU)iniint^ (HM"torins ils part in assistino- i\\^^ 
human voice as nalinally as amoni^the Italians of Syra- 
cuse. To tlic uninitialeil the I)iiKlinL;s here are as unin 
telli^iblc as elsewhere, soundino- to ordinary ears likt> 
the oibberish of Victor Hugo's Con'i|)achin():;. ImU 
the comparative cpiietude of this lM)ard rcncUis it 
easier to lollow the courses of ihc lUAvkci, to dclcHt the 
shades ot dillercMici; in llu- ruiinin*;' oHers, and i^ener- 
ally to oc;t a clearer conception of this |)art of tlu- 
machinery of stock brokerage. 

In the basement b(Mieath the roou\ of the Govern- 
nuiii Koard is a larLi'e vault containing; 618 small safes, 
arranged in three tiers. Mach safe is a foot and a 
half s(jnare, and is rented by and of the broker, who 
deposits in it for safe keeiMUL^-, when the Board is not in 
session, a tin box containing- his l)onds and sci iiiiiies. 
It is said that the ai^o-reo-ate value of the ^.(•(■l^■iLies 
kept here is over two hundred millions of dollars, i'lie 
vault is ouarded day and ni<4"ht by four policemen spe 
cially detailed for that purpose. 

The telegraph has v(Ty greatly simplified the busi- 
ness of Wall street, and considerably lessened its 
expense in one respect. Prc^vlous to the introduction 
of the [)r(;sent system, the brokers were compelled to 
employ numbers of messengers to carry ik-vvs ol the 
transactions of the M\(hang(; to their olhcf's, and where 
time was of iinj)ortance large sums were spent in cab 
hire. The introduction of the Stock Tele^raj>h has 
changed all this. Iw('ry broker's o^fwc, all the |)rinci- 
pal hotels, rc^staurants, and bar room, now contain 
an automatic recording instrument, connectcxl by tele- 
graph wires with the instrmn(;nts in the various iioards 



344 NEW YORK. 

at the Stock Exchange. The operator at the Exchange 
registers the quotations as they are made on his own 
instrument, and instantly they are repeated on every 
instrument in the city, the instruments printing the quo- 
tations in plain Roman letters and figures on a narrow 
ribbon of paper, where they can be easily read. 
Almost by the time the transactions of the Exchange 
are written down by the clerk at the blackboard they 
are known at every point in the city w'here a recording 
instrument is located. Thus both time and money are 
saved by this ingenious invention. 

The life of a stock broker is one of constant excite- 
ment. Stocks go up and down so rapidly, so many 
changes occur, that he must be continually on the alert, 
watching the market eagerly, to take advantage of a 
lucky rise, or to guard against the mishaps of an unex- 
pected decline. It is a wearying, wearing existence, 
and it is no wonder that in their amusements the 
brokers should be rather boisterous, or that they 
should seek to enliven the sometimes dull proceedings 
of the Boards with a bit of fun. The 1 5th of September 
is known as "White Hat Day," and is rigidly observed 
at the Exchange. Woe to the unfortunate broker who 
ventures to put in an appearance on that day with a 
straw or summer hat. It is ruthlessly knocked from 
his head, and the next moment the members are busy 
playing football with it. 

III. 

THE CLEARING HOUSE. 

The Clearing House Association occupies a hand- 
some building, erected for its purposes, at No. 14 Pine 



WORK OF THE CLEARING HOUSE. 345 

Street, and owned by the Association. It is the medium 
through which the city banks exchange the bills and 
checks which each holds against all the others for the 
amount which all the others hold against it. The As- 
sociation was organized in October, 1853, and now 
numbers as members fifty-nine banks, representing a 
capital of about ;^50,ooo,ooo. 

The principal room is fitted up with handsome coun- 
ters and desks for the officials. On*the counters are 
placed fifty-nine desks, one for each bank belonging 
to the Association, each desk being marked with the 
name of the bank to which it belon<is. The desks all 
contain fifty-nine pigeon-holes, each pigeon hole being 
marked with the name of the bank whose checks it 
contains. Each bank is represented by two clerks, one 
of whom remains at the desk, receives all the checks 
on his bank, and signs the name of his bank to the 
sheet which the clerks of the other banks present to 
him upon delivering his checks. The second clerk 
goes from desk to desk, and leaves with the banks on 
which they are drawn all the checks drawn upon them, 
deposited in his own bank on the previous day, and 
take's the receipts for the delivery of such checks. The 
city banks do not open their doors for business until 
ten o'clock, but the clerks are required to be on duty 
by eight, in order to arrange the checks collected on 
the previous day for delivery at the Clearing House, 

At ten minutes to ten the bank messengers enter, 
and commence to take their places at the desks. As 
they come into the hall they hand to an official on duty 
at the door a paper containing the exact account of the 
bank they represent. These statements are transferred 



346 NEW YORK. 

to a sheet prepared for that purpose by the Clearing 
House clerks, and must agree precisely with the checks 
received inside before the Clearing House closes its 
duties. If any error or discrepancy is discovered, the 
bank at fault is at once informed by telegraph, and its 
messenger is not permitted to leave the Clearing 
House until the mistake is corrected. The Manager 
of the establishment sits at a higfh desk on the side of 
the room nearest his private office, from which he can 
command a full view of all that is going on in the hall. 
At ten o'clock precisely he brings down his gavel, and 
opens the work of the day. The most perfect order 
and quiet are preserved. No loud talking or calling 
is permitted. A late bank is fined two dollars. A 
messenger violating any of the rules of the establish- 
ment is fined the same sum, and Is reported to his 
bank. Should he repeat the offence he is expelled the 
Clearinof House. 

"The daily transactions of the Clearing House vary 
from ^65,000,000 to ^100,000,000. The system is so 
nicely balanced that three millions daily settle the dif- 
ference. Each bank indebted to the Clearing House 
must send in its check before, half after one. Creditors 
get the Clearing House check at the same hour. Daily 
business is squared and all accounts closed at half 
after three. Every bank In the city Is connected with 
the Clearing House by telegraph. The morning work 
of clearing one hundred millions occupies ten minutes. 
Long before the clerks can reach the bank, its officials 
are acquainted with the exact state of their account, 
and know what loans to grant or refuse. Through 
the Clearing House each bank Is connected with every 



ENORMOUS FINANCIAL TRANSACTIONS. 847 

Other in the city. If a doubtful check is presented, if 
paper to be negotiated is not exactly clear, while the 
party offering the paper or check is entertained by some 
member of the bank, the telegraph is making minute 
inquiries about his financial standing. Before the con- 
ference closes, the bank knows the exact facts of the 
case." 

The amount of the transactions of the Clearing 
House on the day it opened, October iith, 1853, was 
$23,938,682.25. Its total annual transactions now 
amount to about ^24,000,000,000. The largest amount 
for any one day since the organization, was ^206,034, 
920.50, on November 17th, 1869. The largest balance 
paid to any bank was ^10,585,471.31, on November 
17th, 1869, and the largest balance paid to the Clearing 
House by any bank was ^4,774,039.59, on the 5th of 
April, 1872. The operations of this Clearing House 
amount to over 65 per cent, of the total exchanges of 
the twenty-three Clearing Houses of the United States, 
and thus represent, "to a certain extent, the magnitude 
of the daily business of the country at large. It is the 
boast of the Association that in spite of its enormous 
transactions, "no error or difference of any kind exists 
in any of its records;" and no bank belonging to the 
Association has "sustained any loss by the failure of any 
bank or otherwise while a member," 

IV. 

THE CURBSTONE BROKERS. 

If the operations of Wall street were confined to the 
dealings of the members of the Regular Boards of the 
Stock Exchange, the business of the street would be 



348 NEW YORK. 

always conducted legitimately and safely. But a large 
portion of these operations is in the hands of an en- 
tirely different set of men. The transactions of the 
Long Room far exceed those of the Regular Boards, 
and, as has been said, these are governed by no fixed 
laws. Men must look out for themselves when dealing 
with the frequenters of this room. Still another class 
of operators exist. These cannot obtain admission 
to either the Exchange or the Long Room, and so they 
crowd about the doors of the Exchano^e, fill the side- 
walks, and overflow into the street. They require 
neither office nor capital for their operations. They 
do business in the open air, and carry their capital in 
their heads, or in their pocket-books. They are known 
as " Curbstone Brokers," and are among the sharpest 
and most unscrupulous operators on the street. The 
only law that binds them in their dealings is that of 
"honor among thieves," and they are often oblivious 
to that obligation. So numerous are they, and so ex- 
tensive and far-reaching are their operations, that in 
times of excitement and distrust the combined power 
of the Long Room and the Curbstone has made even 
the Regular Boards tremble. They are men of the 
coolest effrontery, and of the most unflinching nerve. 
They know that fortune is even more fickle on the 
Curbstone than in the gorgeous Exchange, and they 
are always on the alert to profit by every chance that 
comes in their way. They are gamblers, pure and un- 
defiled, and are merciless toward those who fall into 
their clutches. They have nothing to lose, and every- 
thing to gain ; and as for compelling them to stand by 
an unfavorable contract, why, he would be a wise man 



RECKLESS SPECULATION IN STOCKS. 349 

indeed who could discover the means of accomplishing 
this feat. It is said that the daily operations of the 
Long Room sometimes reach the startling figure of 
$70,000,000, but there is no means of ascertaining the 
amount of the dealings of the Curbstone. That it is 
enormous, there can be no doubt, 

V. 

SPECULATIONS IN STOCKS. 

In former years Wall street did a strictly legitimate 
business. Stocks were bought and sold on commis- 
sion, and the broker was satisfied with his percentage 
on his transactions. He took no risk, and was in no 
danger of losing anything, Now-a-days a different 
state of affairs prevails. So great is the race for 
wealth, that many reputable houses not only buy and 
sell on commission, but speculate largely on their own 
account, taking all the chances of profit and loss. 
With such houses all is uncertainty. They may, by 
lucky ventures, reap large gains, but they are liable all 
the while to the losses caused by an unfavorable mar- 
ket, or a sudden crash in the securities they are oper- 
ating in. No firm that does not confine itself strictly 
to a commission business can tell exactly from day to 
day where it stands. It is at the mercy of the market, 
and though prosperous at the opening of the day, the 
close may find it bankrupt. 

The mania for speculation in stocks may be said to 
date from the close of the war. Then everything was 
in the flush tide of prosperity. Money was plentiful, 
and easy to be had, and men were led to engage in 
speculative ventures who, in former years, would have 



350 NEW YORK. 

lauo-hed to scorn the idea of their taking such risks. 
The petroleum discoveries added fuel to the passion for 
stock oramblino-. Securities of all kinds were dealt in 

o o 

with a recklessness that made the wiser heads of the 
street tremble for the future of the country. It was 
useless to offer advice, however. A. had amassed a 
fortune by some lucky speculation in Wall street, and 
B. was sure that he would be equally fortunate. What 
money he could raise was devoted to stock gambling. 
Often these ventures were successful, but very fre- 
quently they resulted in loss. Since those days the 
evil has grown, and has spread throughout the country. 
Men and women in all parts of the Union have their 
brokers in New York, who operate for them in their 
favorite stocks. Everj^body longs for speedy and great 
wealth, and it seems so easy to find it in Wall street. 
Many win in the golden game, but many more lose 
their all. Nine out of ten who thus risk their money 
are ignorant of the street and its ways, and rely simply 
on the good faith and sound judgment of their brokers. 
But even if the broker is a model of honesty and busi- 
ness capacity, he cannot command success for his 
clients ; he and they must take the chances of the 
market. They are playing an uncertain game. A 
sudden rise in the market may bring them wealth, or 
an unexpected depression may consign them to pov- 
erty. The only safe way for those who wish to get 
money is to keep out of Wall street, and seek a more 
legitimate and slower way of becoming rich. But, alas, 
like other forms of gambling, stock gambling holds its 
victims with a fearful power. They lose once, and 
venture again, but think that there must surely be a 



FORTUNES IN WALL STREET. 351 

turn in the tide, and so they go on until they have 
nothinof more to risk. 

If fortunes are quickly made in Wall street they are 
lost there with even greater rapidity. You may see 
men in rags, so wretched that the Police Station is 
their lodging and the bread of charity their only sub- 
sistence, hanging about their old haunts in the street, 
watching the operators with wistful eyes, who were 
once high in the fa^'or of the Exchange, and possessed 
of wealth and good commercial standing. They were 
ruined by stock gambling. Once they had palatial 
mansions on Fifth avenue, and were the favorites of 
fortune. Now they have no future, no hope. They 
have not the moral courage, even if they had the oppor- 
tunity, to seek to regain their former positions. They 
have fallen never to rise ao^ain. 

The best and most reputable firms in the street 
never speculate on their own account. They buy and 
sell on commission, and their only speculative dealings 
are for their customers. They take care in such cases 
to be protected by liberal "margins," Vvdiich secure 
them against all possibility of loss. 

All sorts of people come into the street to tempt 
fortune, and the brokers could tell some queer tales of 
their customers did they see fit to do so. When a 
person wishes to speculate in stocks, it is not necessary 
for him to buy the securities outright, though that is 
by far the safer way in dealing with first-class stocks. 
If he can satisfy the broker that he is a responsible 
person, he will be allowed to begin operations by pay- 
ing down only ten per cent, of the value of the securities 
he wishes to deal in. Thus with j^iooo he may buy 



352 NEW YORK, 

:;i 0,000 worth of stocks. This percentage Is called a 
margin, and the deposit of it is required to protect the 
broker from loss in case the stock should fall in value. 
If the stock advances the broker sells, and his customer 
makes a profit, out of which he must pay the broker his 
commission; if, however, the stock depreciates in value, 
the customer must either sell out at once, and bear the 
loss that attends the decline, or he must increase- his 
margin to an extent sufiicient to protect his broker 
should he decide to hold the security in hope of a turn 
of the market. 

Of late years the control of the stock market has 
become centred in the hands of a few capitalists of 
enormous wealth. They move the market as they 
please, and their combined efforts will send stocks up 
or down, as they wish. They could ruin the whole street 
should they see fit to do so. That, however, would not 
be to their interest, so they content themselves with 
less sweeping operations, and on great "field days" in 
Wall street they fill their coffers remorselessly, at the 
expense of the smaller operators, scores of whom they 
coolly consign to ruin. Consequently these great oper- 
ators are the objects of the most cordial hatred of the 
brokers in the street. 

VI. 

STOCK SWINDLERS, 

If Wall street is the home of legitimate and honor- 
able enterprises, it is also a chosen centre from which 
the worst of swindlers conduct their operations. From 
time to time advertisements appear in the city dailies 
and in the newspapers throughout the Union, announc- 



BOGUS STOCK CIRCULARS. 353 

ing that such and such a firm, the name of which is 
given, is prepared to receive small orders for the pur- 
chase and sale of stocks on the "Combination Sys- 
tem," and guaranteeing large profits to all persons 
sending the firm their orders accompanied with remit- 
tances of from ^lo upward. These firms announce 
that they have peculiar facilities for operating in the 
stock market, and that their system is so nicely ar- 
ranged that persons entrusting them with their orders 
cannot fail to receive a large return upon their invest- 
ments. Money may be sent by express, or by postal 
order or reofistered letter. 

The country is flooded with these advertisements. 
The religious press teems with them, and not long since 
several of the leading religious weeklies warmly en- 
dorsed a combination scheme, and commended it to 
their subscribers. This particular scheme turned out 
to be one of the most barefaced swindles ever attempted 
in New York, and was broken up by the refusal of the 
postal authorities of the United States to allow its pro- 
prietors to use the mails for their nefarious business. 
It was proven that the names appended to the adver- 
tisements were bogus, and that all the various schemes 
of the kind at that time in operation in New York 
were owned and operated by one man; that no actual 
operations of any kind were conducted by him in the 
stock market, and that he coolly pocketed all the remit- 
tances sent to him, without any intention of making a 
return of any description to the senders. 

These advertisements do their work well. There 
are always men and women ready to be caught by 
cheap promises of sudden wealth, or handsome profits 

23 



354 NEW YORK. 

on small investments. From all parts of the Union 
money is sent to the bogus bankers, who pocket it, and 
laugh at the innocence of their victims. Their mails 
are among the largest received at the New York Post 
Office, and every letter contains a remittance. 

A little more than a year ago the attention of the 
postal authorities of Ne'w York was called to the opera- 
tions of the bogus bankers. The matter was referred 
to the Postmaster General at Washington, and a spe- 
cial agent was detailed to investigate it, and in his efforts 
he was cordially assisted by the officials of the New 
York Stock Exchange, who were anxious to break up 
the infamous business. The investigations of the 
agent were directed towards several firms doing busi- 
ness under the following names: "Lawrence & Co.," 
19 Broad street; "Adams, Brown & Co.," 28 Broad 
street; "Allen, Jordan & Co.," 54 Wall street; and 
"Barnes, Gibson & Co.," 11 Broad street and 55 Ex- 
change Place. The investigation was thorough and 
satisfactory, and resulted in obtaining such conclusive 
evidence that the Postmaster General issued an order 
forbidding the Postmaster at New York to pay postal 
orders or to deliver registered letters to any of these 
firms. 

It was ascertained by the special agent that all of the 
above named firms were bogus, and that they were all 
the property of one man, whom we shall term the pro- 
prietor, who had obtained control of them by recording, 
under the laws of the State of New York, fictitious 
articles of partnership. In order to carry on the busi- 
ness, he made an arrangement with two men, who were 
to assume the direct managfement of the various firms. 



HOW STOCK SWINDLES ARE CONDUCTED. 355 

They agreed to pay the proprietor the sum of $12,500 
a month, or $150,000 per annum, for the net receipts 
of the single firm of "Lawrence & Co.," and an equal 
amount for the privilege of transacting business under 
two of the other bogus firm names. The interests of 
the proprietor were guarded by his having confidential 
agents to be present at the opening of the letters con- 
tainino- remittances. These letters came in at such a 
rate as to make the profits of "Lawrence & Co." 
alone, for nine months, from March ist to December 
ist, 1879, from $17,500 to $20,000 per month, after 
paying all expenses, inclusive of very extensive adver- 
tising, and salaries of $100 a week to each of the two 
men employed by the proprietor. The profits of the 
other bogus firms were in proportion. 

Now, this is no exaggerated story. The facts are 
given as stated by the special agent of the Post Office 
Department ; they are known to the Post Office au- 
thorities at Washins^ton and New York, and to the 
officials of the New York Stock Exchange, who can 
vouch for their truthfulness. 

Schemes of this kind appear from time to time. 
The authorities discover them, and break them up, but 
in a little while others, under new names, take their 
places, and when investigated, are generally found to 
be in the hands of the old offenders. 

The manner in which these bogus bankers, stock 
swindlers, or whatever one may choose to term them, 
conduct their operations, is very simple. They send 
out their advertisements, which appear in thousands 
of newspapers throughout the Union. Thousands of 
foolish people are attracted by them, and either at once 



356 NEW YORK. 

send their remittances, or write for further informa- 
tion. In return, circulars are sent to parties making 
inquiry, setting forth the merits of the " Combination 
Scheme," and showing how even so small a sum as ten 
dollars can be used to advantage in the great oper- 
ations of Wall street. "By combining your money with 
somebody else's," says the circular, " the probabilities 
of profit are far greater than by any other system, 
while the risk is diminished to the very lowest point 
and limited to the amount invested. Each customer 
has exact justice, and at the same time obtains all the 
advantages of the largest capitalist. By the combina- 
tion system we concentrate our whole energies and 
capital on the most attractive stocks; keep the market 
well in hand; buy and sell at any hour; make quick 
turns; cover sales; and, above all, succeed, when 
others fail, from force of circumstances." 

To the man or woman bent on making a successful 
venture in stocks, this seems perfectly clear, honest 
and above-board. The money is sent, and the return 
mail brings the sender a certificate of ownership of so 
many shares of stock in the " Combination Scheme." 
The firm promises to make a weekly report of its 
operations, and at the end of one month to close the 
combination and divide its profits, pro-rata, among the 
shareholders. It expressly stipulates, however, that 
no part of the profits or capital shall be withdrawn 
until the close of the combination. The certificate is 
accompanied by a pamphlet, containing testimonials 
(all bogus) from persons who have been benefited by 
the system; some showing how the writers have been 
saved from financial ruin by the investment of one 



THE BUBBLE BURSTS. 357 

hundred dollars in the combined scheme, and all tes- 
tifying their delight at the immense profits realized 
from small investments, and thanking the firm for the 
fair and honorable way in which they have been 
treated. 

In about a week or ten days a printed report is re- 
ceived by the certificate-holder, showing a handsome 
profit on the first week's transactions — the profit being 
generally about twenty-five per cent. The innocent 
victim is delighted. Surely he is on the royal road to 
wealth at last. Another week passes, and a second 
report Is received, showing that the fortunate investor 
has gained fifty per cent, on his investment. This re- 
port is accompanied by a letter or circular, setting forth 
the merits of a new combination scheme, just forming, 
and ureingf the victim to send one hundred dollars, or 
as much as he feels justified in risking, in order to par- 
ticipate in its benefits. A large percentage of those 
receiving such circulars, delighted with the reports of 
their first venture, make a second investment. The 
third week arrives, and with It comes another letter, or 
circular, from the managers of the combined scheme. 
The victim opens It exultlngly, but he has not read 
much of the communication before his hair begins to 
stand on end. The managfers Inform him, "with oreat 
regret," that they have no profits to report this week ; 
that owing to the "unprecedented haste that had 
marked the efforts of a large number of small specu- 
lators to oret rid of their holdincrs," the market had be- 
come completely demoralized, and the great operators 
bewildered. "A decline had been precipitated," they 
add, "that obliged us to make great personal sacri- 



358 NEW YORK. 

fices, in order to protect our patrons ; and, although 
we have lived througrh the storm, we were oblieed, 
most reluctantly, to witness the destruction of many a 
well-conceived and judiciously-executed combination." 
The victim is now seriously alarmed, not only for the 
fate of his first investment and its fifty per cent, profits, 
but also for the second, from which he has, as yet, 
heard nothing. He sits down and writes to the mana- 
gers, directing them to close his account, and forward 
him the amount sent them, with the profits to date, less 
their percentage. In reply he receives a few curt 
lines, calling his attention to the "contract" they sent 
him at the time they received his money, wherein it was 
stated that "no part of profits or original capital is to 
be withdrawn until the close of the combination." In 
other words, he is bluntly told that he has no control 
over the investment. For the next week the victim 
lives in suspense. Then comes the end. A circular is 
received from the managfers, announcinor the failure of 
the combination and the loss of all the money and all 
the profits. A melancholy preface alludes to a das- 
tardly conspiracy headed by Jay Gould and some other 
well known speculators, which had so knocked the 
market to pieces that thousands had been ruined. In 
spite of their best efforts, say the managers, the com- 
bination has gone down with the rest, and they have 
suffered terrible losses themselves. "Trusting to 
appearances," they continue, "well calculated to deceive 
the most experienced veteran on 'change,' we, unfortu- 
nately, were caught in the same dreadful storm that 
has proved so fatal to many of the best known men on 
the street." 



A WARNING TO PETTY STOCK GAMBLERS. 359 

It is all over, the investor's dreams of wealth are 
rudely broken, and he must get over his disappoint- 
ment the best way he can. This is not the end of it, 
however. In a few days he receives a letter from the 
managers askinir another investment, and promisinor a 
return in thirty clays that will more than compensate 
him for his previous loss. Strange to say, so fatal is 
the influence of stock gambling, thousands respond to 
this impudent request, and send their money, to be 
swindled a second time. 

Pamphlets, circulars, and other publications are sent 
out through the country by the bogus bankers ; the 
mails are burdened with tons of this matter, which is 
scattered broadcast throughout the land. Clergymen, 
country merchants, lawyers, mechanics, everybody who 
is supposed to be able to raise ten dollars, are plied 
with these printed appeals to try the wonderful combi- 
nation system, and thousands from all parts of the 
country respond. None of these dupes ever receive a 
cent either of the money invested or of profits. They 
are simply fleeced. It is strange, but true, that men 
who in ordinary business transactions are regarded as 
sharp and shrewd, and not easily taken in, yield by 
thousands to the temptations of the stock swindlers, 
and risk their money as readily as the veriest green- 
horn that ever lived. 

Be warned, O! reader of these pages. What we 
have written is true, and carries its moral with it. If 
you want money, work for it. Keep out of Wall 
street, and have nothing to do with bankers and bro- 
kers who send you circulars and solicit your patron- 
age in combination or other ventures. 



360 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

ALONG THE WHARVES. 

WRETOHBD CHARACTER OT THE WHARVES — PLAN FOR A NEW SYSTEM — THE NORTH RIVER 
pRONT — THE RAILROAD PIEKS — THE FERRY HOUSES — THE FOREIGN STEAMSHIPS — THE 
FLOATING PALACES OF THE HUDSON AND LONG ISLAND SOUND — THE BETHEL — THE BOAT 
STORES — THR GRAIN ELEVATORS — THE EAST RIVER FRONT — SAILING VESSELS — THE SHIP 
YARDS — THE DRY DOCKS — THE CANAL BOATS — SCENES ON BOARD — THE FRUIT TRADE — THE 
FISH MARKET — SCENES ALONG THE WHARVES — ACCIDENTS — THE RESCUE STATIONS — THE 
VOLUNTEER LIFE-SAVING CORPS — " NAN, THE LIFE SAVER." 

To the stranger the shores of the North and East 
Rivers present one of the most attractive scenes to be 
witnessed In the city. The wharves extend, in an un- 
broken Hne, along almost the entire water front of the 
city. They are, as a rule, wretched-looking piers of 
wood, thrown out into the water, and covered over 
with dilapidated sheds. The ferry-houses and the 
sheds of the great railway and steamship lines are well 
built, and often handsome structures, but they are the 
only respectable-looking buildings along the shore. It 
is hoped that at some future day the present system 
of piers will be replaced with substantial and handsome 
structures of granite and Iron, which will enable New 
York to compete favorably with Liverpool and its 
other great rivals of Europe. 

Beginning at the Battery, the North River front is 
taken up for some distance with the piers of the Penn- 
sylvania Railroad, and several lines of steamers plying 
to ports on the coast of the United States, Above 
these are the ferry-houses of the New Jersey Central 
and the Pennsylvania Railroads, and at Intervals higher 



OCEAN STEAMSHIPS. 



361 



Up the river are other piers and the up-town ferry of 
the Pennsylvania road, the Pavonia and Erie Railroad 
ferry, the ferries to Hoboken and Weehawken, and the 
freight piers of the other lines of railroads terminating 
in Jersey City. All the great traffic and travel between 
New York and the South, and a large part of that to 
and from the West, enter and leave the city by the 
North River front. The foreign steamships lie thickly 
along this portion of the river. Here are the great 
floating palaces of the Pacific Mail Company, the In- 




Ll ^ \KD blEA.MSHir 



man, White Star, National, State, Cunard, Anchor, and 
Guion lines, which are constantly arriving and depart- 
ing, bringing thousands of tourists and emigrants, and 
rich cargoes from far-off lands. " European steamers 
leave and arrive at the port of New York daily, some- 
times half a dozen in a single day ; and in addition to 
these great ships that ply over the ocean ferry to Eu- 



362 NEW YORK. 

rope, there are lines to South and Central America, 
the West Indies, the Windward Islands, to Florida, 
New Orleans, Texas, Mexico, Cuba, and various other 
foreign and domestic destinations. An ocean steamer 
is a vast floating hotel, where rich and poor find ac- 
commodations suited to their means and their tastes. 
When one of these great vessels, decked with flags, 
and crowded with people on its decks waving hand- 
kerchiefs to their friends ashore, moves out of the 
dock, it is one of the most striking and suggestive 
scenes to be witnessed on the water front of the city. 
The scenes consequent on the arrival of an ocean 
steamer have also their interesting phases, often mixed 
with a dash of the ludicrous, which grow out of the in- 
spection of baggage by the Custom House officials." 

The great steamers which ply the Hudson and navi- 
ofate Long- Island Sound also have their wharves on 
the North River. These are the most magnificent 
vessels afloat, are fitted up with the greatest luxuriance 
and comfort, and well merit the name of floating pal- 
aces. The grand saloon of these steamers extends the 
whole length of the boat, and is two stories in height. 
Massive columns support the roof, and around the 
entire saloon runs a broad gallery upon which the up- 
per tier state rooms open. The rooms are cozily fur- 
nished, and nothing that can contribute to the comfort 
of the passengers is neglected. Some of the boats 
are now provided with the electric light, and present a 
brilliant spectacle as they glide along at night over the 
dark waters of the river or sound. The table is pro- 
vided with every luxury and delicacy of the season. 
The only drawback to these steamers is the constant 

# 



364 NEW YORK. 

presence of numbers of women of ill fame, who make 
their homes on the boats, and boldly ply their infamous 
trade with men as shameless as themselves. These 
steamers cost immense sums, the price ranging from 
half a million to a million and a quarter of dollars. A 
night trip on one of these floating palaces is an expe- 
rience never to be forgotten. 

Right in among the shipping nestles the Bethel, or 
floating chapel for sailors, a neat little structure, with 
seats for several hundred persons. 

Above Canal street the ice companies, whose houses 
are located along the upper Hudson, have their depots. 
The ice is brought down the river in barges, and dis- 
tributed to city customers from this point. 

In the neighborhood of Christopher street are the 
"boat stores," curious looking floating edifices devoted 
mainly to the sale of oysters and fish. They constitute 
one of the most singular and characteristic features of 
the river front, and carry on a busy trade. 

At the foot of 54th street the telegraph lines which 
connect New York with New Jersey and the States 
beyond it are carried down to the river. The wires 
are enclosed in cables .which rest upon the bed of the 
river. They reach the Jersey shore in the neighbor- 
hood of the Elysian Fields, in Hoboken. 

Higher up the river are the grain elevators and 
docks of the New York Central Railroad, beyond which 
are the headquarters of the oil trade. 

The East River front is devoted chiefly to sailing 
vessels, the California clippers, the great Indiamen, and 
the small craft that trade between the city and New 
England by way of Long Island Sound. Here also 



CANAL BOAT HEADQUARTERS. 3G5 

are the wharves of several Hnes of steamers runnincr 

o 

to points on the Sound, and the ferries to Brooklyn, 
Williamsburgh, and Long Island City. Several large 
ship yards, prominent among which is the establish- 
ment of John Roach, and a number of floating docks, 
lie along the upper part of the East River, and high 
over all rises the huge structure of the Brooklyn bridge. 
At the southern end of the East River front are the 
headquarters of the canal boats, "which receive the 
freight of the Erie Canal, and the locality is so decep- 
tive that a stranger would never suspect the immense 
commerce which belongs to it. The turtle-like crafts, 
painted generally in the most grotesquely glaring col- 
ors, are so closely moored together that one can easily 
walk across them from wharf to wharf. Men, women, 
and mayhap children, may be seen from time to time 
on their decks, and strings of family washing flutter in 
the breeze, like ships' bunting. Here and there we 
may also see lace curtains at the windows, and flowers 
peeping from behind — in a word, all the signs of pleas- 
ant domesticity. If we could see through the decks, 
we should probably find the stern divided into three or 
four compartments, provided with all the comforts for 
a small family, even to parlor organs and sewing ma- 
chines. The canal boatmen have their homes on board 
these vessels, and oftentimes show no little taste in fit- 
ting them up." 

In the neighborhood of the Wall street ferry is the 
headquarters of the foreign fruit trade, and her,e are 
vast stores of the richest and most luscious productions 
of the tropics; lemons, oranges, dates, figs, bananas, 
grapes, and nuts of every description, for which the 



366 NEW YORK. 

Metropolis furnishes a profitable market. At the foot 
of Fulton street is the great Brooklyn Ferry, and the 
Brooklyn Market, and adjoining the ferry is the Fulton 
Fish Market, where dozens of small craft are discharg- 
ing their finny cargoes. 

Both river fronts present a busy and bustling scene. 
The streets are thronged with heavily laden wagons 
and trucks, and at the wharves gangs of stevedores are 
busy loading and unloading vessels. The noise and 
confusion are very great, and it is difficult for pedes- 
trians to cross the streets. 

Accidents are very common along the river shore, 
especially cases of drowning. As a means of rendering 
assistance at such times, rescue stations have been 
established at various points along the docks, and in 
each ferry house. Ladders of a sufficient length to 
reach from the pier to the water at low tide, boat hooks 
attached to long poles, life preservers, floats and coils 
of rope, are placed at these stations, together with a 
printed code of rules for their use, and instructions 
for the treatment of persons rescued from drowning. 
Each station is under the charge of the policeman 
stationed on the beat in which it is located, and in the 
absence of a superior officer it is his duty to take 
charge of all attempts at rescue and to render all the 
assistance in his power on such occasions. In case of 
accident, any one may use the materials of the station, 
but interfering with or removing^ them at other times 
is punishable by law. These stations have been of the 
greatest service since their establishment. 

One of the most efficient forces engaged in the work 
of saving life along the water front of the city is the 



NAN, THE LIFE-SAVER. 367 

"Volunteer Life Saving Corps," consisting of three 
boys, headed by WilHam O'Neill, better known as 
"Nan, the Newsboy," or "Nan, the Life Saver;" the 
other two are named Gilbert Long and Edward Kelly. 
These three young heroes began their good work in 
the summer of 1878. At that time Nan was twenty 
years old, and Long and Kelly about eighteen. Having 
heard a great deal of the many lives lost by falling or 
jumping off the wharves, they resolved to start a life 
saving corps, and quietly went to work. They fitted 
themselves out with the necessary apparatus, rude, it 
is true, but effective, and after their labors of the day 
were over, devoted themselves to patrolling the East 
and North River fronts, from Grand street on the East 
River to Pier 28 on the North River, taking in seventy- 
one piers in all. They went on duty at seven o'clock, 
and continued their rounds until half-past ten or eleven. 
They received no public encouragement, no assistance 
of any kind from any quarter, but within six months 
from the date of their organization they saved twenty- 
five lives, some of them at the risk of their own. Only 
the policemen, whom they encountered in their rounds, 
knew of their noble work. Often they met with the 
blackest ingratitude from those whom they rescued. 
They did not hesitate to plunge into the river in the 
darkest nights, or to brave any danger, in their self-ap- 
pointed task. Two years ago Captain Paul Boyton 
became much interested in Nan and his companions, 
and brought them before the public. Since then assist- 
ance has been rendered to the young braves, and they 
have been enabled to prosecute their work in a more 
thorough manner. 



368 



NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE MUNICIPAL POLICE FORCE. 

ORIGIN OF THE NEW YORK POLICE FORCE — THE OLD TIME POLICEMEN — " OLD HAYES " — 
INCREASE OP CRIME — GEORGE W. MATSELL— THE FIRST REGULAR POLICE FORCE — OPPOSITION 
TO IT — THE METROPOLITAN POLICE FORCE ORGANIZED — THE MUNICIPAL POLICE — POLICE 
HEADQUARTERS — THE COMMISSIONERS — SUPERINTENDENT WALLING — THE SUBORDINATE 
OFFICERS — THE PATROLMEN^QUALIFICATIONS OF A POLICEMAN — THE BROADWAY SQUAD — 
DUTIES OF THE FORCE — OMNIPRESENCE OF THE POLICE — POWER OVER THE ROUGHS — DAN- 
GERS OF A policeman's LIFE — DARING EXPLOITS OF CAPTAINS WILLIAMS AND ALLAIRE — 
FIGHTING A MOB — FEAR OF THE " LOCUSTS " — UNIFORM OF THE FORCE — HOW THE CITY IS 
PATROLLED — HOURS OF DUTY — A SINGULAR POLICEMAN — HOW PETE JOINED THE FORCE — 
HIS SERVICES — ARRESTS — THE STATION HOUSES — INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS — THE " BUM- 
MERS' ROOMS " — HOW VAGRANTS ARE LODGED — THE SERGEANT IN CHARGE — A NIGHT IN A 
POLICE STATION— A FEMALE TRAMP — " DRUNK AND DISORDERLY " — A CASE OF DISTRESS — A 
FRUITLESS ERRAND — A NEW WAY TO GET HOME AT NIGHT — SEARCH FOR A MISSING HUSBAND 
— A POLITICAL ROW — YOUNG BLOODS ON A LARK — COSTLY FUN — A WOULD-BE-SUICIDE — 
BROUGHT BACK FROM THE GRAVE — A JOLLY TRAMP — A GHASTLY SPECTACLE — MASKERS IN A 
STATION HOUSE — THE MOUNTED POLICE — A SENSIBLE HORSE — THE HARBOR POLICE— A HARD 
LIFE — PROVISION FOR DISABLED POLICEMEN AND THEIR FAMILIES. 

In the year 1658 Peter Stuyvesant was Gbvernor 
of New Amsterdam, and the town had attained con- 
siderable proportions. The portly burghers, careful 
for the safety of their lives and property, came to the 
conclusion that it was dangerous to leave the town 
unguarded at night, and so in that year a night watch 
of eight men was organized, properly armed, and 
provided with formidable looking rattles. This was the 
origin of the splendid force of which New York is now 
so justly proud. When the English came, in 1 676, they 
changed the name of the town to New York, and also 
made a material change in the night watch. They 
required all able-bodied citizens to keep watch by turns, 
and punished a disregard of this duty by a fine. These 
citizens were required to provide themselves with good 
muskets and six rounds of ammunition. The head- 



THE FIRST POLICEMEN. 369 

quarters of the watch were at the Town Hall, then 
located at Coenties Slip, and in the basement of this 
building cells were provided for the prisoners arrested. 
These were few in number, however, being mosdy 
unruly negro slaves and drunken sailors from the ships 
in the harbor. New York was a very orderly town at 
that time, and the citizens gave the Night Watch but 
very little trouble. In 1697 a regular watch of "four 
good and honest inhabitants of the city" was appointed 
to patrol the streets by night. Each was provided 
with a bell, and was required to call out the hours of the 
night and the state of the weather. During the British 
occupation of the city, in the war of Independence, 
military patrols kept the streets at night, extending as 
far up the Island as the present line of 14th street. 
After the close of the war a patrol of civilians was 
appointed. They were generally men who pursued 
some humble and laborious occupation during the day, 
and watched on alternate nights, a good part of which 
they spent in dozing on their posts. They also called 
the hour for many years. They wore a leather hat 
with a wide brim, something like a fireman's hat, and 
this won for them the name of "Leatherheads." Their 
only badge of office was a stout club about t,t, inches 
long. 

During all this time the city had no day police. The 
first guardian of the peace by daylight was the High 
Constable, Jacob Hayes, generally known as "Old 
Hayes," who came into office more than forty years ago. 
His exploits were regarded as something wonderful by 
the New Yorkers of his time, though to the average 
policeman or detective of to-day they are simple 

24 



370 NEW YORK. 

enough. Yet, though he was a terror to evil doers, he 
was but one man against many, and even his zealous 
efforts could not keep the ruffianly class in order. 

In 1840 New York had a population of about 
400,000, and it was in the enjoyment of a commercial 
prosperity that then seemed marvelous. The lack of 
a police force was keenly felt. Crime was rampant, 
and in certain districts of the city respectable persons 
walking along the street were insulted, robbed, and 
beaten in open daylight, by gangs of ruffians who in- 
fested these quarters. At night the streets were abso- 
lutely unsafe. Burglaries and murders were of almost 
nightly occurrence. So bad did this state of affairs 
become, that the citizens with one accord declared that 
New York must be provided with a proper j^olice 
force. 

One of the four police justices of the city at this 
time was George W. Matsell, a young man of high 
character and great energy. He at once applied him- 
self to the task of providing a proper force. He 
selected half a dozen good men, and placing himself 
at their head, nightly patrolled the wealthier districts, 
where burglaries were the most frequent. In a short 
time he was authorized by the other justices to increase 
his force, and a number of squads were organized and 
placed under the command of picked men, one of 
whom was the present superintendent of the force, 
George W. Walling. The force was regularly uni- 
formed, and with Matsell at its head did good work. 
Mayor Harper lent it a vigorous support, but the uni- 
form, which was copied from that of the London 
police, gave great offence to the Irish, who were very 



• THE METROPOLITAN TOLICE. 371 

numerous then, as now, in the city, and the police 
encountered a stubborn resistance, which assumed its 
greatest proportions in the troubles at the burnino- of 
the Bowery Theatre. This brought matters to a crisis, 
and the Legislature of the State passed a law in March, 
1844, abolishing the old night watch and organizing a 
regular police force, which was not to exceed nine hun- 
dred members. The city was divided into separate patrol 
districts, station-houses were provided, and the police 
force w^as systematically organized. In the spring of 
1 845 Mayor Havermeyer appointed Mr. Matsell Chief 
of Police, and from the first the force beean to grive a 
good account of itself, although Its usefulness was sadly 
hampered by political Influence, which has ever since 
been its curse. In 1857 a change was made. The 
Legislature consolidated New York, Brooklyn, West- 
chester, King and Richmond (Staten Island) coundes 
into a Metropolitan police district. This district was 
under the control of a Board of Commissioners, seven 
In number, including the Mayors of New York and 
Brooklyn, who were ex-officio members. The consoli- 
dated force was under the command of a superinten- 
dent with headquarters in New York. The first super- 
intendent under this law was John A. Kennedy. In 
i860 the law was considerably modified, and the num- 
ber of the commissioners was reduced to three. Super- 
intendent Kennedy raised the efficiency of the Metro- 
politan Police to a high state. During the terrible 
"Draft Riots" of 1863 the magnificent courage with 
which the police held the city against the mob won 
them a proud and lasting reputation. Three days of 
incessant fighting proved them to be men who could 
be relied upon in the most trying emergency. 



372 NEW YORK. • 

The charter of 1870 abolished the Metropolitan dis- 
trict so far as New York was concerned, and provided 
for the creation of a Municipal Police. All the old 
force doing duty in New York was retained, and the 
organization was placed under the control of four Com- 
missioners, appointed by the Mayor with the consent 
of the Board of Aldermen. The command of the 
force was vested in a superintendent. This is the 
present police force of New York. 

^ The Police Headquarters of New York are located 
in Mulberry street, between Houston and Bleecker 
street. This is known as "The Central Office." The 
buildinor is a handsome structure of white marble, and 
extends through the block to Mott street, the front 
on that street being of pressed brick, with white 
marble trimmings. The entire building* is elegantly 
fitted up, and is provided with every convenience for 
the prompt and proper discharge of the duties of the 
officials located within it. Here are the offices of the 
Commissioners and their clerks, the Superintendent, 
the Street Cleaning Bureau, the Detective Squad, the 
Chief Surgeon, and the "Rogue's Gallery." The 
building is connected with every station house by 
special telegraphic wires. 

The control of the force, as has been said, is vested 
in a Board of four Commissioners. They receive an 
annual salary of ^6000 each, except the President 
of the Board, who is paid $8000, and hold office for 
six years. They may be removed "for cause" by the 
Mayor, with the concurrence of the Governor of the 
State. They appoint the Superintendent and all the 
members of the force, make promotions, and have 



THE SUPERINTENDENT OF POLICE, 373 

power to dismiss an offender after he has had a fair 
hearing before them. All complaints against police- 
men are laid before them, and they alone have power 
to try the members of the force. They also appoint 
the Inspectors of Election, about eleven hundred in 
number, select the five hundred and fifty polling 
places, and count the votes cast. The law requires 
that the Commissionerships shall be equally divided 
between the two leading political parties. This is an 
element of weakness in the organization, as it opens 
the door to political influence in the distribution of 
appointments. 

The Superintendent is the immediate commander of 
the Police force. His duties are onerous, and only a 
man of high moral as well as physical courage and 
undoubted integrity can fill the position worthily. The 
members of the force receive their orders from him, 
through his subordinates, and are responsible to him 
for the proper performance of their duties, he being, 
in his turn, responsible to the Commissioners for the 
discipline and good conduct of the force. His office is 
connected with every station house in the city by tele- 
graph, and he is in constant communication with all 
parts of the immense field over which he keeps watch. 
In this way he can spread the news of a robbery, trace 
a lost child, or track a criminal all over the city, and 
in fact throughout the Union, without leaving his desk. 

The present Superintendent is Mr. George W. Wal- 
ling, who has been connected with the force for forty 
years. He is a fine-looking, well-preserved man, and 
one of the most satisfactory officials New York has 
ever had. He is firm, but just, in the enforcement of 



374 NEW YORK. 

the discipline of the force ; brave as a lion, and de- 
servedly popular with his men and with the citizens 
generally. 

Under the Superintendent are four Inspectors of 
Police, one of whom must always be on duty at the 
central office. Each inspector has charge of one of 
the four inspection districts into which the city is di- 
vided, and is responsible for the preservation of order 
in his district. He must examine the police stations 
under his control, making his visits at times when he 
is not expected, and see that everything connected 
with it is conducted properly. Complaints made by 
citizens against members of the force are investigated 
by him, and he reports the result to the Superinten- 
dent, who, in his turn, lays the matter before the Com- 
missioners, if the evidence submitted by the Inspector 
warrants him in doing so. The Inspector must also 
visit the patrolmen on their beats at uncertain hours, 
to ascertain if they are faithfully performing their 
duties. 

The city is divided into thirty-five precincts, in each 
of which there is a station-house. Each precinct is 
commanded by a Captain of Police, under whom are 
several Sergeants, one of whom must be on duty at the 
station-house at all hours of the day and night. The 
Captain is responsible for the proper conduct of the 
station, the correct performance of their duties by the 
men under his command, and the general good order 
of his precinct. The Sergeants are the Captain's Lieu- 
tenants, and perform such duties as he may assign 
them. Below the Sergeants are the Roundsmen, who 
"go the rounds" in certain specified districts, to see 



STRENGTH OF THE POLICE FORCE. 375 

that each patrolman is on his post, and to receive such 
reports as the patrolmen may wish to make. 

The Patrolmen are the privates of the force. Each 
has a certain "beat" or route assigned him, which he 
must patrol faithfully during his hours of duty. He is 
responsible for the preservation of order on his beat, 
and is required to summon assistance when needed. 

The present police force consists of about three 
thousand men. Their pay is not large, considering the 
arduous and dangerous duties required of them, and 
the great responsibility resting upon them. A Captain 
receives ^2000 a year, a Sergeant $1500, a Roundsman 
^1200, and a Patrolman ^1000. 

Besides the force employed in patrolling the city, 
special detachments guard the City Hall, the Grand 
Central Depot, the Banks, the theatres, and public 
meetings; act as a Sanitary Police exclusively; do 
duty as a Mounted Police; watch over the neighboring 
waters as a "Harbor Police," and are assigned to 
special duty as detectives. For these special services 
they receive no extra pay. 

Naturally, among so large a body of men, there will 
always be considerable sickness. When a Patrolman 
falls sick from "unusual exposure, exertion, or injury, 
while in the discharge of police duty," he is put on 
half-pay until he returns to duty. The Commissioners 
have power to award full pay to meritorious officers 
thus afflicted, and claim that such a course is usually 
pursued. 

The Regulations of the force thus prescribe the 
qualifications of applicants for admission to the force: 

"No person will be appointed a Patrolman of the 
Municipal Police Force unless he 



376 NEW YORK. 

"First. Is able to read and- write the English lan- 
guage understandingly. 

"Second. Is a citizen of the United States. 

"Third. Has been a resident of this State for a term 
of one year, next prior to his application for the office. 

''Fourth. Has never been convicted of a crime. 

"Fifth. Is at least five feet eight inches in height. 

"Sixth. Is less than thirty-five years of age. 

"Seventh. Is in good health, and of sound body and 
mind. 

" Eighth. Is of good moral character and habits. 

"Applicants for the office must present to the Board 
of Commissioners a petition signed by not less than 
five citizens of good character and habits, and verified 
by the affidavit of one of them." 

The applicant is subjected to a rigid medical exami- 
nation, by one or more of the most competent sur- 
geons of the force. The standard of physical capacity 
is very high, and not more than one in ten of the ap- 
plicants ever come up to it. Only sound and perfectly 
healthy men are wanted. Applicants must also state, 
under oath, their parentage, nationalit}', education, per- 
sonal condition in every respect, their present business 
or employment, and physical condition. 

The force is regularly drilled in military tactics by 
competent instructors, and the strictest discipline is 
maintained. Thus, in times of emergency, the force is 
capable of acting as a body of veteran soldiers. As a 
rule, the men are large, fine-looking fellows, and at 
their annual parades their martial bearing, steadiness, 
and admirable discipline, never fail to win them hearty 
applause. The largest and finest-looking men are as- 



DUTIES OF A PATROLMAN. 377 

signed to duty on Broadway. Nor is this for show 
only. The dudes of a Broadway patrolman are ardu- 
ous and exacdng, and scarcely a day passes that does 
not add its testimony in favor of the wisdom of the rule 
that governs their selection. 

That many of the members of the force are brutal 
wretches, and are only kept in their positions by politi- 
cal influence, is unfortunately true ; but taken as a 
whole, the police of New York are a credit to the city. 
They have never failed in their duty in any emergency, 
and instances of individual courage and heroism are 
of daily occurrence. 

The duties of a Patrolman are numerous and diffi- 
cult. Each has a certain " beat " or district assigned 
him, which he must patrol and watch faithfully during 
his hours of duty. In some sections of the city these 
beats are very extensive, and it takes the Patrolman a 
considerable length of time to walk around his district. 
In such cases more is required of the man than he is 
capable of performing, for a crime may be committed 
in some part of his beat, when he is far away on an- 
other part, faithfully doing his duty. The Patrolman 
is expected to use the utmost vigilance to prevent the 
occurrence of crime or wrong-doing along his beat, or, 
at least, to use such vigilance as will render the com- 
mission of it difficult. He must keep an eye on all 
persons passing along his route after dark, examine 
frequently the doors, lower windows, cellar doors, and 
gates of the houses he guards ; peer through the peep- 
holes into the stores in which the gas is left burning, 
to see that all is quiet and safe ; to have a general 
knowledge of the occupants of the houses along his 



378 NEW YORK. 

beat ; to report to the officer in charge of his station 
"all persons suspected of being policy dealers, gam- 
blers, receivers of stolen property, thieves, burglars, or 
offenders of any kind ;" to watch all disorderly houses 
or houses of ill-fame, and observe and " report to his 
commanding officer all persons by whom they are fre- 
quented ;" to give the alarm in case of fire ; to aid per- 
sons appealing to him for protection ; to stop all undue 
noise o-r disorder on the street ; and to make arrests 
for certain offences which are named in the book of 
Reeulations, of which each member of the force is re- 
quired to have a copy. He is not allowed to stop and 
converse with strangers or acquaintances, except for 
the purpose of giving them such information as they 
may ask for ; nor to converse with any other Patrol- 
man, except to impart or receive information. He 
must not stop on his post, but must diligently patrol it, 
except when some suspicious light or person causes 
him to linpfer to watch it or him. He must be exceed- 
ingly careful in making arrests, so as to take into cus- 
tody the actual offender, and not an innocent person ; 
and he is forbidden to use violence, unless it shall be 
necessary in order to overcome the resistance of his 
prisoner. If he cannot make the arrest alone, or if he 
has orood reason to believe that assistance is neces- 
sary, it is his duty to summon another officer, by rap- 
ping with his club upon the pavement, and in the 
meantime to call upon the bystanders for aid. A re- 
fusal to assist an officer when called upon constitutes 
a misdemeanor, and the offender is liable to arrest. 

" It is common cant, that a policeman is always pres- 
ent — except when wanted. In the lower part of New 



VIGILANCE OF THE TOLICE. 379 

York this is an unjust charge. How far will you 
walk in the region of Canal street, for instance, before 
meeting a policeman — that is, if you look for one, for 
it is his policy to remain inconspicuous ? Lower 
Broadway, dim and gloomy at midnight, is full of po- 
lice, furiously shaking at the handles of the doors, to 
be sure that all are securely locked, peering through 
the little peep-holes of the iron shutters, to see that no 
buro^lars are at work in the stores where lig^hts are left 
burning all night, or that an incipient fire is not work- 
ing insidious destruction ; lurking out of sight in shady 
doorways, while they watch suspicious loungers ; or 
standing in groups of two or three on the corners 
where two posts intersect, and a Roundsman has hap- 
pened to join them. Leaving Broadway, and glancing 
down dark and fearful back streets, like Bayard or Eliza- 
beth, West, Houston or Sullivan, you are sure to see 
the flickering light of the street lamps, and the ruddy 
glare of red-sign lanterns, reflected from the silver 
shield and brass buttons. Go where you may, you 
meet these erect and wide-awake watchmen. They 
are strolling through the deserted avenues of Wash- 
ington Market ; they are keeping an eye on rogues in 
Madison Square ; they are pulling silently in and out 
of the shadows of the great ships lying asleep at the 
wharves; they are dosing as 'reserves' in the thirty- 
four station-houses, ready on telegraphic summons to 
go to the care of a fire or the subduing of a riot. The 
worshiper, coming from his weekly prayer-meeting, 
finds the policemen at the door, enforcing his coveted 
quiet. The family that goes for a day's recreation at 
Rockaway, is sure that its pleasure will not be spoiled 



380 NEW YORK. 

by rowdyism, for a group of officers stand on the deck, 
seemingly absorbed in the magnificence of the sum- 
mer's morning on the Bay; yet ready, ready! The 
opera-glasses sweeping the audience at ' Faust ' or 
' The Shaughran' catch a sight of a blue coat or two 
behind the ranks of white ribbons and pretty plumes. 

"Thouo-h honest men sometimes do not seem able 
to put their finger upon a policeman at the instant they 
want him, rogues find far oftener that the 'peelers' are 
on hand when not wanted. Go to Chatham Square 
some night, break a window, and run; how far do you 
suppose you would get? Or go to Broadway and 
Sixth avenue and fiire a revolver; how long would you 
keep that pistol? Let me snatch an apple from an old 
woman's stand in Fulton Market, and she would have 
me under lock and key in twenty minutes, if she 
thought it worth the trouble. Wander where we will 
in this vast city, the ruffian or vagrant cannot get away 
from the law. It follows him into his home, waits at 
all his resorts for amusement, and can often tell him 
better than he knows himself what he has been doing 
for twenty-four hours. This constant surveillance 
exasperates bad characters. They chafe under the 
restraint, make feeble efforts to rebel, but it is useless. 
The power of the police over the lower and evil circles 
of society is enormous; they have a mortal fear of the 
force. They know that behind that silver shield there 
resides indomitable courage, and in that closely but- 
toned coat are muscles of iron and nerves of steel. 
The 'Bowery Boys' and roughs of New York are all 
cowards, and they know it. They dare not meet half 
their weight of righteous pluck. I have seen a great 



COWING A MOB. 381 

bully cringe and cry under a policeman's open-handed 
cuffing-, who had always avowed himself ready to fio-ht 
any number of persons on the smallest provocation. 
Very likely he has a bowie-knife, or revolver, or slunf*- 
shot — or all three in one, as I saw one night in 28th 
street — in his pocket at the time; yet he does not 
attempt to use it on the officer of the law. The 
occasional exceptions to this are rare and notable. 
How many times have a single policeman arrested a 
man out of a crowd, and no one of his fellows raised a 
finger to help him! They dare not. They have too 
wholesome a respect for the law, for that locust, for 
that revolver in the pocket; most of all they are awed 
by the cool courage of the vtan who dares to face them 
on their own ground." 

Yet, in spite of all this, the policeman's life is full of 
danger. He must patrol streets that are known to be 
dangerous, narrow alleys, without a light along their 
course, where a well delivered blow from a slune shot, 
a skillfully aimed thrust from a knife, or a bullet from a 
revolver would make an end of him before he could 
summon help. He is an object of hatred, as well as 
of fear, to the dangerous classes, and they do not hesi- 
tate to take any advantage of him. Often some brave 
fellow is set on by a gang of roughs, and beaten or 
wounded. Yet whatever the danger, however great 
the odds, the policeman must face it all, and, to the 
honor of the force be it said, he does not shrink. 
Whatever their faults may be, cowardice cannot be 
charged against the police of New York. 

"In 1873," says the writer in Scribners Magazine, 
from whom we have quoted above, '"Mulligan's Hall' 



382 NEW YORK. 

was a basement saloon in Broome street. It had been 
growing worse and worse, and one evening, hearing a 
disturbance, Captain Williams and the officer on that 
post went in. There were thirty-eight persons, men 
and women, of every color and nationality, all of the 
worst character and some notorious in crime. The 
Captain took in the situation at a glance, and deter- 
mined with a thought to arrest the whole party. Placing 
his back to the front door, he covered the back door 
with his revolver, and threatened death to the first per- 
son who moved. Then he sent the patrolman to the 
station for help, and for fifteen long minutes held that 
crowd of desperadoes at bay. They glared at him, 
squirmed and twisted in their places, scowled and gra- 
ted clenched teeth, itched to get at their knives and 
tear him to pieces; but all the while the stern mouth 
of that revolver looked at them, and looked them out 
of countenance, and the steady nerve behind it held 
sway over their brutal ferocity. It was a trial of nerve 
and endurance. Captain Williams stood the test and 
saved his life. He wonders now why they did not shoot 
him a dozen times. Certainly it was not because they 
had any scruples, for the first two prisoners sent to the 
station killed Officer Burns with a paving stone before 
they had gone two blocks. Captain Allaire made an 
almost precisely similar single-handed raid on the 
famous 'Burnt Rag' saloon in Bleecker street, one 
winter night in 1875." 

One Fourth of July morning, a few years ago, the 
writer of these pages was coming up Third avenue on 
a street car. Looking down East 35th street a singu- 
lar sight presented itself. A platoon of police formed 



PREVENTING A RIOT. 383 

across the street was slowly retreating backward, with 
revolvers drawn and pointed, while two of their number 
held on to a rough looking prisoner, whom they carried 
along with them. Following them was a mob of 
several hundred ruffians, yelling, cursing, and occa- 
sionally throwing stones. Wishing to see the result, 
I sprang from the car and hurried to a livery stable 
just opposite the Police station in 35th street, and about 
a hundred yards from Third avenue, from which I 
could see the whole affair. The Police retreated 
slowly across Third avenue, and to the station house, 
into which they quickly disappeared with their prisoner. 
A cheer went up from the mob, and the ruffians 
thronged about the station as if intending to attack it. 
Immediately the doors were thrown open and the entire 
force on duty at the station dashed into the street, 
armed with their long night clubs, and headed by their 
Captain. "Give them the locusts, men," came in sharp, 
ringing tones from the Captain, and without a word 
the force dashed at the mob, striking heads, arms, and 
shoulders, and in less time than it takes me to relate 
it, the ruffians were fleeing down the street and dis- 
persing in all directions. Not all escaped, however, 
for each officer returned to the station with an ugly 
looking prisoner in his grasp. 

The uniform of the force is a long blue coat, of heavy 
cloth, buttoned to the throat, with a row of brass but- 
tons. A silver shield is worn on the left breast, with 
the arms of the city and the number of the officer upon 
it. . A stout cloth helmet covers the head, and is also 
adorned with the wearer's number, enclosed in a 
wreath. A baton of heavy wood is suspended from a 



384 NEW YORIC 

belt at the waist, and at night a club of greater length 
takes its place. This is provided with an ornamental 
but stout cord, by means of which the officer secures 
the club to his wrist when using it. A loaded revolver 
is carried night and day in the hip pocket. In the 
warm season a light blue blouse is worn in place of 
the heavy coat. The members of the force are required 
to be neat in their dress, and must come on duty with 
freshly polished boots or shoes. Untidiness in dress 
is punished. 

"A policeman's time is reckoned by periods of four 
days, but he has no Sunday or holidays, save his an- 
nual summer leave of absence. Beginning at six p. m. 
on Sunday, for instance, he goes upon duty, and paces 
his beat until midnight. Returning he remains in the 
station house on "reserve" duty until six a.m.; then 
goes out for eight hours, after which there is four hours 
rest, bringing the time to six p. m. on Monday. At 
that time he goes on diity again for six hours, followed 
by six hours' reserve duty, bringing it to six a. m. 
This is followed by two hours' patrol and five hours' 
reserve, ending at one p. m., Tuesday. Then begins 
five hours' patrol, six hours in the house, and six hours 
more of patrol, ending at six a. m., Wednesday morn- 
ing, after which he is "off," and goes where he pleases 
until six o'clock that evening, when he begins six hours 
of patrol followed by eight hours of reserve duty, five 
hours of patrolling again, then a rest of eleven hours 
in the station house, then another six hours of post 
duty, and at six on Thursday evening he finds himself 
off once more for twelve hours. The following morn- 
ing he begins it all over again. Thus, once in eight 



HOW PETE BECAME A POLICEMAN. 385 

days he can stay at home all day, and every eighth 
night he can sleep at home. But he must not be 
tardy in returning to his work. 

"At six in the morning and evening, and at twelve, 
noon and midnight, the Sergeant on duty in each office 
taps his bell. The platoon which is to go on duty — 
each company is divided into two sections of two 
platoons each — files in from the waiting room, dresses 
ranks, answers roll call, is inspected, to see that each 
man is in proper uniform, has his club, his revolver, his 
handcuffs, and his fire alarm key. Then such general 
orders as have come from headquarters are read, and 
at the words, 'Draw batons, right face, march!' the 
blue coats pass out and scatter to their posts. As fast 
as relieved, the men who have been on duty during the 
previous six hours return to the station." 

At the Church street station the force on duty have 
a singular coadjutor, in a dog, named "Pete." Pete's 
history is a remarkable one, and is worth relating. 
Late on a warm afternoon, about six years ago, a dog 
walked into the main room of the station and stretched 
himself on the floor. All attempts to drive him out 
were in vain, and he was suffered to remain. Later in 
the day he roused himself and trotted into the room 
where the patrolmen congregate when on reserve duty, 
and stretching himself under the table went to sleep. 
At midnight the fourth section of the second platoon 
was rung up. The men marched into the main room, 
and ranored themselves in line. The doer followed and 
took his position at the foot. When the roll was called 
the Sergeant named the dog Pete, and bade him go 
with the men. He followed them out. went around 

26 



386 NEW YORK. 

from one post to another, returned with the platoon in 
the morning, and went to sleep under the table. 

Relays of men were called during the day, but the 
dog did not move. At six o'clock the fourth section 
of the second platoon was again called out. The dog 
marched in with the men and took up his position at 
the foot of the line. 

"By George!" said the Captain, "there's that pup 
again. Well, don't feed him, doorman, and he'll soon 
go away." 

But he did'nt go away. He has never been fed in 
the station, and he has always acted thoroughly at 
home. 

"There's one peculiar thing about Pete," said one of 
the Sergeants, "he moves and acts exactly like a police- 
man. He never runs or jumps or plays, but simply 
strolls along. He's fond of janitors' daughters, and 
will stand sto.ck still in a shadowy doorway for hours at 
a stretch. Not a man in the precinct has ever seen 
him eat, and I'm pretty sure that the general public 
never saw him drink. And then, what a clever dog he 
is! In the winter of '79, on the loth of January, if my 
memory serves, Pete was walking along Greenwich 
street, on his way from post to post, when he saw three 
men at the basement door of the bonded warehouses, 
Nos. 98, 100, and 102. A moment later, and the men 
had forced the door, entered the building, and closed 
up their work so that a passing glance could not detect 
that anything had been tampered with. Pete lay down 
by the door and growled. After a while Officer 
Dougherty came along, and patting the dog on the 
head walked on, expecting the dog to follow him. 



WORK OF THE POLICE. 387 

Pete never moved, but growled louder than before, 
with his eyes fixed on that door. Dougherty tried 
to get him to move, but it wouldn't do. At last the 
officer suspected that something was wrong. He exam- 
ined the door, then rapped for assistance, and the build- 
ing was searched. Two of the burglars were captured. 
The other one escaped. About three o'clock one 
morning last winter Pete was trotting along Broad- 
way, when he discovered a broken pane of glass in a 
clothing store near Cedar street. He stopped at once 
and barked like mad. Every man in the precinct knows 
Pete's voice. Ofiicer Donnelly ran to him and found 
that there had been a liorht robberv. Whether the dog^ 
frightened the thieves away or not, we never knew. 
Another time the dog discovered a fire at 240 Fulton 
street. Pete has never missed his turn on the second 
platoon, and has never gone out with any other than 
the fourth section in six years." 

The number of arrests made by the police is from 
70,000 to 75,000 annually, sometimes running as high 
as 80,000 to 82,000. Of these more than one-fourth 
are for intoxication. 

Each police precinct is provided with a station-house, 
for the accommodation of the force on duty and the 
detention of prisoners. These are so located as to be 
central to their respective precincts. They are model 
buildings of their kind, being generally constructed of 
red brick, with stone facings. The entrance leads di- 
rectly to the main hall, at one side of which is the Ser- 
geant's desk, generally a handsome affair of black wal- 
nut, with a standard gas lamp at each side. Behind 
this desk sits the Sergeant on duty, and before him is 



388 NEW YORK. 

the " Blotter," in which are entered the arrests, charges 
against prisoners, and other events of each twenty-four 
hours. The room is provided with substantial furni- 
ture, according to its needs. The telegraph instru- 
ment is placed at a distance from the windows and 
entrance, as a protection to it in case of an attack upon 
the station. It is of a peculiar kind, and is easily 
worked by any person of ordinary intelligence. Speak- 
ing tubes and boxes for papers communicate with the 
other apartments. In the end of the main office is the 
waiting room, in which the men congregate when not 
on duty. On the same floor is the private room of the 
Captain commanding the precinct. It is handsomely 
furnished, and is fitted up as a chamber and office com- 
bined, for the Captain as often sleeps here as at home. 
The upper floors contain the dormitories of the Ser- 
geants, Roundsmen, and Patrolmen. In some of the 
stations the cellar contains the cells of the prisoners, 
and the rooms for the accommodation of persons who 
have nowhere else to spend the night. Two such 
rooms are provided, one for men and boys, the other 
for women. The women's room is in charofe of a fe- 
male attendant. In other stations the cells and lodg- 
ing rooms are located in an annex, back of the main 
building. Bath rooms and other conveniences are pro- 
vided for the officials and men of the force, and the 
entire station is kept scrupulously clean and neat. 
Each Patrolman has a private closet for his clothing 
and other possessions, and each bed is stamped with 
the section number of its occupant. 

As prisoners are brought in by the Patrolmen, the 
Sergeant in charge hears the accusation against them, 



THE tramps' lodging ROOM. 389 

notes it down in the Blotter, and orders the prisoner to 
a cell, where he is confined until the next day, when he 
is sent to the courts for trial. 

The rooms set apart for lodging tramps, casuals, and 
those who have no other place to spend the night, are 
furnished with Spartan simplicity. A platform with 
movable planks runs along the longest side, and some- 
times there is a second similar platform on the opposite 
side of the room. This is the only bed provided, and 
the sleeper must make the best of it. They are aroused 
at daylight and turned into the street, after which the 
rooms are thoroughly washed by means of a hose, and 
made ready for their next occupants. It is usually 
after heavy snow storms, or long, cold rains, that the 
number of persons who seek shelter at the stations is 
largest, and an uncommonly severe winter will send 
an extraordinary number of vagrants to these lodgings. 
Sometimes they are so full that there is no more room, 
and then hundreds are turned away. The average age 
of the lodgers is over twenty-five, but some few boys 
are to be found amonor them. The men outnumber 
the women two to one. Very few young girls apply 
for lodgings at police stations. Most of the female 
lodgers are women past middle age, dissipated and lost 
to all sense of decency, although occasionally a woman 
of modest appearance is found among them. Both 
men and women are, in the main, Irish, German, and 
Italian, very few native Americans being among the 
applicants for shelter. 

The majority of the lodgers are professional vagrants, 
and sleep regularly at the station-houses. They are 
generally found to have been drinking, and are some- 



390 NEW YORK. 

times so drunk and disorderly that it is necessary to 
lock them up in cells. Their names are recorded in 
the station-house books, and they are said to show 
great ingenuity in inventing new names and new 
stories to account for their condition. The police 
place little confidence in what they say. They seldom 
lodgfe at the same station house two nights in succes- 
sion, but go from one to another, hoping to be for- 
gotten by the Sergeants and keepers before they visit 
the same place again. Many of them claim to have 
come from the country, having been driven to the city 
by the sudden setting in of cold weather, and the con- 
sequent impossibility of getting employment on the 
farms. 

The lodgers fare roughly in the stations. When one 
of them comes in, he takes one of the planks which 
must be his bed, and places it on the frame of the 
platform so that it slants from head to foot, and lies 
down, with his boots for a pillow and his coat for a 
covering. If there are but few persons in the room he 
may have two or three planks, but after he is asleep 
he is likely to be rudely dropped to the floor by having 
the extra planks jerked from under him. On a cold 
night all are taken early, and fifty men or fifty women 
lie heaped on the long platform. Next, the aisle is 
occupied, and as more come in they will crawl under 
the platform, until a mouse could hardly tread his way 
through this mass of humanity. Such a lodging place 
at 12 o'clock on a "full night" is almost as vile as the 
"Black-hole" of Calcutta. The heat comes uo through 
the gratings in the floor, and the presence of sixty or 
seventy unwashed, gin soaked bodies adds stenches 



THE POLICE SERGEANT. 391 

ihdescribable ; while the snores of stentorian breathers, 
the groaning of wakeful lodgers, and drivelino- of 
drunken ones, the scream of some frightened dreamer, 
and the querulous wail of a sick child, unite to make a 
Babel of horrible sounds. A sinorle flickerinor easlioht 
sends feeble rays through the laden air, and every 
ray touches a pile of rags which in the morning will 
become a tramp. 

The Sergeant who sits behind the railed enclosure in 
the main room of the station-house sees many strange 
phases of life in his hours of duty. This is especially 
so when the station-house is situated in a populous 
tenement house district, where wrangles between 
neighbors are constantly going on, and landlords and 
tenants are in perpetual hot water with each other. 
The differences always happening between these two 
sets of people make a prominent feature in the com- 
plaint business of the station-house. The Sergeant sees 
most of the sad, wretched and unwholesome side of 
existence, and very little of its brighter and more en- 
couraging aspect. If he be a man of kindly, sympa- 
thetic nature, he must be greatly moved at times; but 
his official position and the effect of long familiarity 
with cases of distress and wretchedness, give an appa- 
rent callousness to his manner and address. He comes 
to act his part with an even mechanical method, and is 
the same to all classes and conditions of people. A 
man who considers himself grievously wronged will 
enter the station and point out to the Sergeant with 
earnest profusion the story of his woes, to be met only 
with a few laconic, cold responses, that chill him to the 
very marrow, and make him wonder if a police officer 



392 NEW YORK. 

has any heart at all. An old officer who has sat at the 
desk for the course of a few years, and who has a 
shrewd and observant turn of mind, can quickly meas- 
ure the importance of every complaint made before 
him. Some Sergeants become expert in this line, and 
are the moral barometers of their precincts. They can 
furnish as accurate a diagnosis of the moral health of 
their districts, by a reference to their entry books, as a 
doctor can tell the physical condition of a patient by 
feeling his pulse. 

Let us take our seat beside Sergeant at one of 

the busiest stations in the city. It is ten o'clock, and 
the night is cold and keen without, but the room is 
brightly lighted, warm and comfortable. With the 
exception of a few early lodgers who have been given 
quarters, no one has put in an appearance, and we begin 
to wonder if it is to be a dull night after all. The 
Sergeant smiles, and remarks that there will be busi- 
ness enough in the next three hours. 

The door opens as he speaks, and a woman in a 
faded black dress, a battered bonnet, and a very dirty 
face enters, and hesitatingly approaches the desk. 

"Can I have a night's lodging, sir?" she asks. 

The Sergeant makes no reply for a moment, but 
gazes at her with curious interest, and then asks, 
abruptly: — 

"When did you wash your face last?" 

"I washed it in Bridgeport, sir," she answers; "an' 
I've come from there to-day; and never a drop o' 
wather have I seen." 

" Give her a lodging," says the Sergeant, nodding to 
an officer standing by. "But, see here," he adds to 
the woman, "what are you doing in New York?" 



A NIGHT IN A POLICE STATION. 393 

"Ah! it's a long story, sir," she begins. "It was a 
man that was the cause of it, an' bad luck to him. He 
left me, after deceivin' me, an' I've come to New York 
to find him." 

"How did he deceive you?" 

"Oh, the way they always do. He got the best ot 
me because I was innocent, an' he promised to marry 
me. When he was tired of me he landed out, an' I've 
never seen him since." 

"Where do you expect to find him?'" 

"Here, in this city. I'd know his skin on a bush, an' 
I'll find him or die." 

"Well, you'd better take a rest for to-night." 

The woman oroes off to her hard bed in the lodg-ino-- 
room, and the office is silent again ; but only for a 
short while. The door opens again, and this time with 
a crash, and an officer enters, with a prisoner in his 
vise-like grasp. The man's coat is pulled over his 
head, his hat is gfone, the blood is runnincj from his 
nose, and his gait is so unsteady that he would cer- 
tainly fall to the floor but for the firm hold of the po- 
liceman. His shirt front is covered with blood and 
beer, and his eyes are frenzied and bloodshot. 

"Well, of^cer, what is it?" asks the Sergeant, 
taking up his pen, as the Patrolman drags his prisoner 
to the desk. 

" Drunk and disorderly, sir," replies the policeman. 
" Wanted to fight everybody he met on the street. He 
got pretty badly damaged in being put out of Schloss- 
heimer's beer saloon, and I had to take him in charge." 

" What is your name, and where do you live?" asks 
the Sergeant of the prisoner. 



394 NEW YORK. 

The man gives his name and address, in a sort of 
incoherent manner, and is sent back to a cell, while the 
Sergeant jots down the circumstances of the arrest in 
his " Blotter." 

The door opens again, and a woman, neatly draped 
in mourning, and with a pale, sad face, enters timidly 
and approaches the desk. In a low voice she asks 
the Sergeant if he can tell her of any respectable place 
in the neighborhood where she can obtain a lodging 
at a moderate price. Her manner is that of a lady, 
and the Sergeant listens with respect to her request, 
and gives her the address of such a place as she de- 
sires. In the same low tone she thanks him, and dis- 
appears, and the stern face of the qfificer of the law for 
a moment has a troubled expression. 

The door is thrown open violently once more, and 
two flashily dressed young women enter, and hurry 
forward to the desk. Their faces are flushed, they are 
greatly excited, and have evidently been drinking. 
They begin their story together, talking loudly and 
angrily. They will not stand it any longer, they 

declare. Madame owes them money, and they 

"are going to have it, or raise ." The Sergeant, 

who has listened patiently, mildly interposes with the 
hope that nothing of the kind will be raised in the 
station-house, and then asks: — 

"How much does she owe you ?" 

"Twenty-five dollars each," they reply, in one voice. 

"And why don't she pay you ?" 

"Because she thinks by keeping herself in our debt 
we won't leave her," they responded together; "and 
we want a policeman to come along and make her 
fork over." 



DRUNK AND DISORDERLY. 395 

The Sergeant considers for a moment, and then de- 
clares that the matter does not come within the juris- 
diction of the poHce, and that he can do nodiing for 
them. They stare at him in blank amazement for 
awhile, and then flounce out of the room, loudly cursing 
the whole police force, and the Sergeant in particular. 

The next comer is in charge of another officer. He 
is very dirty, and wretchedly drunk. His tall hat is 
mashed in, and there is mud sticking to his hair. He 
is placed before the desk. 

"Drunk and disorderly, sir," says the patrolman. 
"I caught him climbing a Third avenue Elevated Rail- 
road pillar. He said he always went up to his room 
by way of the fire escape when he came home late." 

The prisoner is silent, but tries to listen to the 
officer, and fixes upon the Sergeant as solemn a look 
as his bleared eyes will permit. He is too drunk to 
give his name, and is sent to a cell, where he is soon 
in a drwnken slumber. 

Toward midnight a poor woman, shabbily dressed, 
with a thin, well-worn shawl around her head enters, 
and approaches the desk. 

"Can you tell me if anything has been heard of my 
husband yet?" she asks — the same question she has 
repeated every day for the past week. 

"No, ma'am, nothing," answers the Sergeant briefly; 
but his eyes as he glances at the poor, sorrowful 
creature, have a pitying look in them. 

"What was your husband's business?" 

"He was a stevedore, sir." 

"And you were married to him how long?" 

"Eleven years and over, sir. We had five children, 



396 NEW YORK. 

all dead now but the youngest. He was a good hus- 
band to me; but he took a drop too much now and 
then, and was cross and noisy. He left the house three 
weeks ago, and we have never seen him since." 

"Did he leave you any money?" 

"He left us nothing, sir. The child and myself lives 
on the charity of neighbors; but we can't expect to 
live that way always." 

"Well, I'll speak to the Captain," says the Sergeant 
kindly, "and see what can be done for you, and if a 
dollar will do you any good, here it is." And the good- 
hearted Sergeant passes a silver coin over the desk, 
and sends the woman away sobbing out her expressions 
of gratitude. 

Loud voices are heard on the station steps as the 
woman passes out, the door is thrown open, and six 
well dressed men enter, accompanied by two police- 
men. They approach the desk, talking excitedly, and 
charges and counter-charges, mixed with much slang 
and profanity, are brought before the Sergeant, who 
sits stolidly gazing at the party, waiting for a return of 
something like order. There is a lull in the talking, 
and one of the policemen states that two of the men 
have been engaged in a drunken assault at a political 
primary held in the neighborhood, and that the others 
have come to prefer charges against them. The 
charges are made and entered in the Blotter, and the 
accused then prefer counter-charges against the other 
four, but as the policemen do not sustain them, the accu- 
sers are suffered to depart, and the accused are sent to 
a cell, where they raise a tremendous racket. 

As the officials are departing for their beats again, 




AN ATTEMPT AT SUICIDE FOILED. 



AN ATTEMFr AT SUICIDE. 397 

two more enter, this time having in custody two hand- 
somely dressed, fashionable looking youths, whose 
flushed faces show they have been drinking, but not 
enough to prevent them from feeling the shame of their 
position. 

" Drunk and disorderly, sir," says the officer. " Kicked 
over an old woman's peanut stand in the street, knocked 
all her stuff into the mud, and then tried to run away." 

"But, Sergeant," pleads one of the youths, "it was 
only for a lark, you see. We'll make it all right in the 
morning with the old woman." 

"Your names and addresses?" asks the Sergeant, 
coldly. 

They are given, but are evidently fictitious. 

" It was only a lark, Sergeant," begins the young 
man who has spoken before. "We didn't mean " 

"Lock them up," says the Sergeant, cutting him 
short. " You can state all that to the court in the 
morning." 

And they are led away. 

The silence that has fallen over the room after the 
young men have been led out is rudely broken by the 
hasty entrance of an officer from the direction of the 
cells. He is pale and excited. 

"Sergeant," he exclaims, "the woman in Number 
Ten has committed suicide. She's hung herself" 

The Sergeant springs up, tells the officer to take 
charge of the room, and hurries to the cells. We fol- 
low him. The door in Number Ten is wide open, and 
the doorman is in the act of cutting down the woman, 
who has suspended herself by means of a line made of 
her garters. He lays her on the floor of the cell, and 



398 NEW YORK. 

he and the Ser^feant bend over and oraze into the 
bloated face. The woman is not dead, and exhibits 
signs of returning Hfe. Efforts are made to restore 
her, and are successful. As she recovers her con- 
sciousness she raises herself on her elbow, and glaring 
around savagely, curses bitterly the men who have 
saved her from death, and begs for a drink of whisky. 
No liquor is given her, however, and when the officers 
are satisfied that she is out of danger, she is hand- 
cuffed, to prevent her from attempting further violence. 
The rest of the night she keeps the place lively with 
her yells and blasphemous cries. 

We return to the desk with the Sergeant, who enters 
the occurrence in the Blotter. We are scarcely seated, 
when two of the worst-looking tramps to be found in 
New York enter, and come up to the desk. 

"Cap'n," exclaims one of them, in a thick voice, 
" let's have a shake-down for me and my pard, for the 
night?" 

"All right," says the Sergeant, " Show these men 
back." 

The tramp who has spoken, encouraged by the ready 
granting of his request, says coolly: — 

''You hain't got a chew o' tobaccer, Cap'n, you can 
let a fellow have?" 

" No, I hain't," answers the Sergeant, imitating the 
voice and expression of the tramp ; " bpt I'll send you 
in an oyster supper presently, with a bottle of Mumm's 
Extra Dry, and a bunch of Henry Clay's ; and per- 
haps some of the other delicacies of the season, if they 
are to be had." 

The tramps laugh at this sally, and follow the officer 
to the lodging room. 



A STATION-HOUSE MASQUERADE. 399 

Half an hour later four policemen enter the room 
bearini^ a stretcher, on which is laid a badly wounded 
man, while two more lead in the assailant, who is 
securely handcuffed, and bears the marks of the 
officers' clubs. He had assaulted and stabbed the 
wounded man in a brawl in a saloon; had resisted the 
officers who attempted to arrest him; and had proved 
so dangerous that they had been compelled to club and 
handcuff him. A telegram is sent to the New York 
Hospital for an ambulance, and the statements of the 
wounded man and the officials taken down by the 
Sergeant, The name and address of the prisoner are 
also written down, and he is sent to a cell with the 
irons still on him. In a short while the ambulance 
arrives and the wounded man is taken away to the 
hospital. 

Shortly after two o'clock another detachment of 
officers bring in a batch of about twenty prisoners, 
male and female. They are dressed in all manner of 
fancy costumes. Here are Dukes, Don Caesars, Ham- 
lets, Little Buttercups, Indian princesses and warriors, 
and the like. They have been to a fancy ball, and left 
it so very drunk that they fell to fighting among them- 
selves in the street, and were taken into custody by 
the officials. They are a motley lot indeed, and lend 
a strange aspect to the station. They appear to feel 
the ludicrousness of their position, and beg to be let 
off; but the Sergeant has no discretion, for the tes- 
timony of the officials is positive, and the charge is a 
serious one. , So they go back to the cells, and in the 
morning will appear in full costume before the Court 
of Sessions, to answer the charges against them. 



400 NEW YORK. 

So the hours of darkness pass away, and the re- 
mainder of the night is but a repetition of many of the 
scenes we have described. 

The Mounted Police, though a part of the regular 
force, constitute a distinct squad, and have their station- 
house in East 85th street. They are assigned to duty 
in the upper part of the city and the suburbs; are 
handsomely mounted, and make a fine appearance 
on parade. They are twenty-two in number, are all 
picked men, who have served honorably in the army 
of the United States, and are therefore experienced 
horsemen. 

Each officer has full care of his horse and equip- 
ments and is responsible for their proper treatment. 
Nine hours' patrol duty is required each day, but there 
is no night duty except in case of emergency. The 
horses are the best that can be had, are all bays, and 
are selected with special reference to this work. It 
takes about six months to break them in so that they 
can be safely used to catch a runaway team, or allowed 
to stand alone while the officer dismounts to make an 
arrest. Some of them are very intelligent animals, and 
become greatly attached to the men who ride them. 
The older ones, when an arrest is to be made, will stand 
with their front feet on the sidewalk waitingf for the 
officer to come out with his prisoner. When they will 
gently follow on to the station-house. Some of them 
will not allow a citizen to approach or catch them du- 
ring any excitement. One of the officers gives his 
horse the credit of savino- him from a severe handlinof 
while making an arrest for assault and battery in a 
group of shanties on yid street near First avenue. 
He was surrounded by a crowd of sturdy Irish women, 



THE MOUNTED POLICE. 401 

armed with sticks, stones, and everything they could 
lay hands on. The prisoner fought desperately, and 
tore the uniform of the officer nearly to pieces while 
struggling to escape, and would have succeeded, but 
that the old horse, appreciating the danger, dashed in, 
and by prancing and kicking up his heels kept the 
women at a distance until the officer had gotten clear 
out of reach with his prisoner safely in custody. The 
number of arrests made by the mounted squad for 
felonies of various kinds will compare favorably with 
those of any other up-town precinct. 

The Mounted Police have other and equally import- 
ant duties to perform, besides making arrests. As 
their posts are laid out on the principal drives, they are 
required to look sharply after runaway teams. During 
the sleighing season runaways are of daily occurrence, 
but it rarely happens that the officer fails to stop the 
team. In case of fire the men do good service by 
riding speedily to the nearest signal box, and sending 
out the alarm, after which they hasten to the police sta- 
tion and give the particulars to the Sergeant. 

Since the annexation of Morrlsania and North New 
York, seven mounted men from the squad patrol that 
district every day, leaving their station in the morning 
looking very much like soldiers starting on a scout, 
with rations for their horses strapped on behind the 
saddle. They remain away all day, and feed their 
horses at gentlemen's places in the suburbs. In the 
summer time they eat their noon lunch by the roadside. 
They are the terror of tramps and vagrants in these 
regions, and a welcome protection to the families along 
their routes. 

26 



402 NEW YORK. 

The Twenty- fourth Precinct consists of the Harbor 
PoHce, and its station is on the steamboat Seneca, 
which Hes at the foot of 3d street, in the East River, 
when not on duty. The men Uve on the steamer, and 
patrol the water front of the city in row boats. One 
of these boats guards the North River front, and 
another the East River front. They go up with the 
flow of the tide and return on the ebb. They row 
along the dark and silent wharves, watching the ship- 
ping, look under the piers for the concealed boats of 
the river thieves, strain their ears to catch the sound 
of muffled oars, and sometimes have a sharp conflict 
with the river thieves, in which revolvers are freely 
used on both sides. It is hard work, and on the dark, 
tempestuous nights of winter, when the wind is whist- 
ling through the rigging of the vessels at the wharves, 
and the surface of the river is roughened into a con- 
siderable sea, it is dangerous. Yet these are the times 
when the Harbor Police must be most alert, for they 
are the nights on which the river thieves are the most 
industrious. The police do their work well, however. 
Millions of dollars worth of property are in their 
keeping, and they guard it faithfully. Considering all 
this, it does seem strange that they should be required 
to perform such arduous labors. Several silent, swift 
steam launches would greatly lighten their labors and 
add much to their proficiency. Yet New York, with 
all its wealth, has never seen fit to strengthen the 
hands of the men upon whose promptness and fidelity 
the safety of so much of that wealth depends. 

The annual cost of the police force to the city is 
^4,000,000; a sum much larger than is expended 



THE POLICE LIFE INSURANCE FUND. 403 

in either London or Paris for police purposes. The 
citizens, however, do not grumble at this. So long as 
the police are faithful and efficient they are willing 
they should be well paid. Nor is the city altogether 
unmindful of the brave men who watch over its safety. 
The Police Law contains the following clause : — 

"If any member of the Municipal Police Force, whilst 
in the actual performance of duty, shall become per- 
manently disabled, so as to render his dismissal from 
membership proper, or if any such member shall 
become superannuated after ten years of membership, 
a sum, not exceeding $150, as an annuity, to be paid 
such member, shall be chargeable upon the Municipal 
Police Life Insurance Fund. If any member of the 
Municipal Police Force, whilst in the actual discharge 
of his duty, shall be killed, or shall die from the imme- 
mediate effect of any injury received by him, whilst in 
such discharge of duty, or shall die after ten years' ser- 
vice in the force, and shall leave a widow, and if no 
widow, any child or children under sixteen years, a like 
sum by way of annuity shall become chargeable upon 
the said fund, to be paid to such widow so long only as 
she remains unmarried, or to such child or children so 
long as said child, or the youngest of said children, 
continues under the age of sixteen years. In every 
case the Board of Municipal Police shall determine the 
circumstances thereof, and order payment of the an- 
nuity to be made by draft, signed by each trustee ot 
the said fund. But nothing herein contained shall 
render any payment of said annuity obligatory upon 
the said Board, or the said trustees, or charo-eable as a 
matter of leo^al rieht." 



404 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE FERRIES. 

NEW York's only means of communication with the main land — number of ferries — 

THE ferry boats — CROSSING IN A FOG — ANNOYANCES OF FERRY TRAVEL — THE FERRY 
HOUSES — A MOONLIGHT RIDE ON A FKRBY BOAT — A SUICIDE — ACCIDENTS. 

The situation of New York being upon an island, 
with a large portion of its population residing upon the 
opposite shores of the waters which surround it, with 
two large cities and several important towns lying op- 
posite or near it, and with almost all of its principal 
railway lines terminating on the New Jersey shore, one 
of'the chief needs of the city is an extensive and well- 
arranged ferry system. The system has grown with 
the necessities of the city, and now comprises about 
twenty-six lines, plying between New York and the 
shores of Long Island, West Chester County, New 
Jersey, and Staten Island. Of these lines, fourteen are 
to Brooklyn and adjacent points on Long Island, seven 
to Jersey City and points on the New Jersey shore, 
one to Harlem, one to Mott Haven, and two to Staten 
Island. Ten lines cross the North River, and sixteen 
the East River, and transport about 125,000,000 per- 
sons annually, besides a vast number of vehicles of 
every description. 

As a rule, the ferries are well managed. The fare 
to the Jersey shore is three cents, to Brooklyn two 
cents, and to Staten Island ten cents. The boats run 
regularly at frequent intervals, from six o'clock until 



406 NEW YORK. 

midnight ; and on some of the lines, half hourly from 
midnight to six o'clock in the morning. They are large 
and powerful side-wheel steamers, constructed on the 
double-end system, with a pilot-house at each end. 
The centre is devoted to vehicles and horses, and on 
each side is a comfortable cabin, with seats extendincr 
the whole length of the boat ; one for ladies, the other 
for men. They carry as many as looo passengers at 
a single trip, at certain hours of the day, with a propor- 
tionate load of vehicles. They are handsomely fitted 
up, and on the principal lines are lighted with gas and 
heated by steam. 

The passage of the rivers is made quickly and with- 
out difficulty in fair weather, but when the rivers are 
filled with floating ice, or shrouded in heavy fogs, one 
or more hours are sometimes consumed in a trip which 
usually requires but a few minutes. During a fog the 
trip is exciting beyond description. The dense mist 
hides the entire river and the opposite shores from 
view, and the pilots must trust to their compasses for 
the accuracy of their course on such occasions. On 
every hand is heard the hoarse whistle of steamers in 
the river, and the tolling of the bells at the landings on 
the shore. The boats proceed slowly and cautiously, 
stopping frequently, and the passengers crowd to the 
forward end, silent and anxious, and peering eagerly 
into the gloom. A steamer glides by like a phantom 
in the mist, and the next instant is lost, and oftentimes 
grazes the side of the ferry boat sharply, narrowly 
escaping a collision. At last, when the opposite shore 
looms up dimly, and the boat glides slowly but surely 
into her dock, the passengers breathe freely, thankful 



ALONG THE RIVER FRONT. 407 

that danger has once more been passed, and glad to 
set foot again upon teri^a fii'^na. 

With the exception of a single line (the New York 
Central), all the great trunk lines from the West and 
South terminate in Jersey City, and few visitors to New 
York enter the city without making the acquaintance 
of the ferries. Thousands of persons doing business 
in the city and residing in New Jersey, Brooklyn, Long 
Island, or Staten Island, are dependent on them daily, 
and are often subjected to vexatious delays in seasons 
of fog, ice, or snow. 

The ferry houses are handsome structures as a rule. 
They are built of wood, and are provided with comfort- 
able waiting rooms for the accommodation of passen- 
gers. At the water's edge are slips with floating 
bridees which can be lowered or raised with the ebb 
and flow of the tide, and in these the boats lie securely 
moored until the moment of departure arrives. 

A constant stream of travel ebbs and flows across 
the ereat rivers. From earlv morn until noon the rush 
is towards New York, and in the afternoon and until 
late at night the throng pours out of the city. 

No greater pleasure can be enjoyed by the visitor to 
the Metropolis than a ride over one of the ferries by 
niofht. The river is alive with the lights of the vessels 
lying in the stream, at anchor along the shores, or 
gliding swifdy by over the dark waters. The long 
rows of lamps on the opposite sides of the river 
stretch away in unbroken lines of light. The boats 
are brilliantly lighted, and are filled with lively throngs. 
Vessels glide swifdy and silendy by, exchanging sig- 
nals by sharp blasts of a whistle or the tolling of bells. 



408 NEW YORK. 

A party of strolling- musicians enliven the scene with 
the sounds of music, and the sharp click of the 
machinery of the boat blends harmoniously with the 
rush of the water as the steamer pursues its onward 
course. Suddenly there is a rush to the side of the 
boat, and a cry of alarm. A ghostly figure gleams for 
a moment on the surface of the water and then disap- 
pears. Some unhappy soul has sought refuge from the 
sorrows of the world "in the hush of the rollino- river." 
The boat is stopped, a careful lookout is kept, but the 
suicide is seen no more, and the steamer resumes its 
course. 

Accidents are common on the ferry boats, especially 
during fogs. Sometimes the loss of life is great; again 
the only damage is that sustained by the. boat. Once 
or twice a steamer has taken fire in mid stream, and 
the disaster has been appalling. The boats are so 
crowded, that in case of trouble a orreat loss of life is 
inevitable. 



THE TOMBS. 409 



CHAPTER XXV. 

THE PRISONS OF NEW YORK. 

THE TOMBS — DESCRIPTION OF THE BUILDING — THE INTERIOR — THE " BRIDGE OF SIGHs" — 
PLACE OF EXECUTION THE MALE PRISON — THE CELLS— THE WOMEn's PRISON— THE 
" bummers' hall" — THE WARDEN'S OFFICE — THE " SWELL CELLs" — THE BOY'S PRISON — 
RELIGIOUS SERVICES — GOVERNMENT OF THE TOMBS — WARDEN FINN — THE MATRON— A 
PRISON OF DETENTION — NOTED ESCAPES FROM THE TOMBS — " BLACK MARIA " — THE 
POLICE COURT — HOW PRISONERS ARE DISPOSED OF — THE COURT OF SPECIAL SESSIONS — 
THE "tombs shysters" — LUDLOW STREET JAIL — THE SHERIFF'S PRISON — IMPRISONMENT 
FOR DEBT — CAPTIVE MILITIAMEN — FEDERAL PRISONERS — EXTORTIONS PRACTICED UPON 
PRISONERS — HOW THE DEPUTY SHERIFFS BLEED THEIR VICTIMS. 

I. 

THE TOMBS. 

In official circles the principal prison of New York 
is known as "The Halls of Justice," but the popular 
name of the edifice is "The Tombs." It is a massive 
structure of granite, in the Eg}'ptian style of architec- 
ture, and occupies the square bounded by Centre, Elm, 
Franklin, and Leonard streets. It was erected be- 
tween 1835 and 1838, and occupies the site of the old 
Collect Pond, from which the city was once supplied 
with drinking water, and which was filled up in 1835. 
The building is one of the most imposing structures 
of the Metropolis, but its wretched situation, which is 
in a deep hollow, sadly mars its appearance. It is 
constructed of granite, in the shape of a parallelogram, 
253 feet long by 200 feet deep. From the street it 
appears but a single story in height, the lofty windows 
being carried from a point a few feet above the ground, 
almost to the cornice. The principal entrance is in 



410 



NEW YORK. 



Centre street, and is reached by a broad flight of dark 
stone steps, which lead to a massive and gloomy 
portico, supported by four immense Egyptian columns. 
Projecting entrances and columns break the outer 
walls on the other three sides, and give variety to the 
otherwise monotonous style. The site of the prison is 




THE TOMBS. 



low, damp and unhealthy, and successive Grand Juries 
have repeatedly condemned the building as unfit for 
its purposes. It was built to accommodate about two 
hundred prisoners, but of late years more than double 
that number have been confined in it. The founda- 
tions have settled in some places to a considerable 



INTERIOR OF THE TOMBS. 411 

extent, owing to the marshy character of the ground, 
and the building has been pronounced unsafe. 

Passing in through the gloomy entrance, the visitor 
finds himself in a large courtyard, in the centre of 
which stands a second prison, one hundred and forty- 
two feet long by forty-five feet deep, containing one 
hundred and fifty cells. This is the male prison, and 
is entirely separated from the prison for females. It is 
connected with the outer building by a bridge, known 
as " the Bridge of Sighs," since all condemned prison- 
ers pass over it on the way to their death. Executions 
are always conducted here in private, and are witnessed 
only by the officers of the law and such persons as 
they see fit to admit. The gallows is set up in the 
courtyard, near the Bridge of Sighs, and is taken down 
as soon as the tragedy is over. 

The male prison contains a lofty but narrow hall, 
with four tiers of cells, opening upon the floor and 
upon three iron galleries, one above another. Two 
keepers are placed on duty in each gallery, to guard 
the prisoners. The cells are intended for two occu- 
pants, but are often forced to accommodate three. 
Each tier has its particular uses. In some of the 
ground-floor cells are placed the convicts or prisoners 
under sentence ; the second tier is devoted to prisoners 
charged with grave offences, such as murder, arson, and 
the more serious crimes ; the third tier is for the a;c- 
commodation of prisoners charged with burglary, grand 
larceny, and like crimes ; and the fourth tier is devoted 
to persons accused of light offences. The cells on the 
ground floor are the largest, while those of the fourth 
tier are the smallest ; the former are very commodious. 



.412 NEW YORK. 

but the latter are scarcely large enough for two 
inmates. 

The woman's prison occupies the Leonard street 
side of the Tombs, and contains fifty cells. It is in 
charge of a matron. 

The Franklin street side of the buildings was for- 
merly fitted up as a station-house for the police of the 
district, but it has lately been converted into a single 
large hall. This is known as " the Bummers' Hall," 
and here are confined the tramps, vagrants, and per- 
sons arrested for drunkenness and disorder in the 
streets. They are kept until the morning after their 
arrest, when they are brought before the courts for 
trial. Persons sentenced to confinement for ten days, 
or for a shorter time, are also imprisoned here. 

The Centre street side contains the offices and resi- 
dence of the Warden, the Police Court, and the Court 
of Special Sessions. Over the Centre street entrance 
are six comfortable cells, for the use of prisoners who 
can afford to pay for them. The windows of these 
cells look out upon the street, so that the inmates are 
not entirely separated from the world about them. 
Forgers, defaulters, and criminals who have moved in 
the higher walks of life, are the occupants of these 
cells. The Boys' Prison is also located in the Centre 
street side. 

The Women's and Boys' Prisons are in charge of 
the Sisters of Charity, who endeavor to minister to the 
spiritual wants of the inmates. One of the rooms of 
the prison is fitted up as a chapel, and religious services 
are regularly held in it. The week is divided among 
the various religious denominations, as follows : Sun- 



PRISON DISCIPLIXE. 413 

day and Tuesday mornings are given to the Roman 
Catholics ; Sunday and Tuesday afternoons to the 
Episcopalians ; Monday to the Methodists ; and the 
Saturdays of the week to such other denominations as 
may wish to avail themselves of them. Sometimes a 
Protestant clergyman will hold religious services in the 
corridor of the male prison, so that the prisoners may 
listen to them in their cells. But little is accomplished 
in this way, however, as the men pay no attention to 
the service, and often drown the preacher's voice with 
shouts, yells, and blasphemous cries. 

The Tombs is in charge of a Warden, who is ap- 
pointed by the Mayor of the city. Under him are two 
Deputy Wardens, a Matron, and a sufficient force of 
keepers to watch and guard the prisoners. The work 
of the kitchen, and the cleansing and repairing, are 
done by the boy prisoners, about thirty being so em- 
ployed all the time. An abundance of good, plain food 
is provided, and prisoners are permitted to purchase 
provisions outside, or to receive them from their 
friends. Changes of clothing are supplied by the fami- 
lies of the inmates, but where these are too poor to 
make such provision, the Warden furnishes the neces- 
sary clothing at the expense of the city. Prisoners are 
allowed to receive visits from their friends, who are 
permitted to provide them with books and other read- 
ing matter ; and are required to exercise themselves 
by walking for an hour every day around the gallery 
of the tier on which their cells are located. They are 
allowed to smoke, and to occupy themselves as they 
please during the day, but are constantly kept locked 
in their cells, except when out for exercise. No lights 



414 NEW YORK. 

are allowed in the cells at night, as a precaution against 
fire. The sanitary arrangements are admirable, and 
are rigidly enforced, and it is said that, in spite of the 
unhealthy location of the prison, no case of disease has 
ever originated in it. This is remarkable, when one 
considers the wretched condition in which many of the 
captives are brought into the Tombs, saturated with 
alcohol, or broken down from destitution or exposure. 

The excellent condition of the prison is due chiefly 
to the efforts of the Warden, Mr. James Finn, who has 
held the position for many years. He is ably seconded 
in the Women's and Boys' Prisons by the Matron, 
Miss Flora Foster, who has been in the service of the 
prison for thirty years. These admirable officials 
acquire an influence over the prisoners which is sim- 
ply wonderful when the desperate character of the 
inmates is considered. 

The Tombs is simply a prison of detention, where 
persons charged with crime are confined until sentence 
is passed upon them, after trial, by the Courts. About 
50,000 prisoners are annually confined in it. As soon 
as sentence is passed upon the prisoners, they are sent 
to the prisons In which their terms are to be served, 
unless the sentence is a capital one, when they are 
detained here until execution. A constant watch is 
kept, day and night, over those sentenced to death, to 
prevent attempts at suicide; but in spite of all the 
vigilance exercised, the condemned sometimes succeed 
in putting an end to their lives and cheating the gal- 
lows. The greater number of suicides are insane 
persons, unhappy lovers, and ruined and deserted 
women. 



ESCAPES FROM THE TOMBS. 415 

Strong- as it is, the Tombs has not always been able 
to retain the prisoners immured in its cells. Previous 
to the appointment of Warden Finn escapes were 
common. On the ist of December, 1851, Henry A. 
Clark made his escape, but was recaptured; on the 
2cl of August, 1864, James Hampton sprang through 
the open window of the Police Court room, and got 
away safely; later on Robert Green escaped from the, 
second tier of cells by using a forged visitor's ticket, in 
broad day; on the i ith of April, 1859, six boys escaped 
at four o'clock in the afternoon, from a window on the 
F'ranklin street side; on the 6th of July, i860, Henry 
Hawk escaped by answering to the name of another 
prisoner who was summoned to receive his discharge; 
on the 19th of September, 1863, Conrad Smith escaped 
through the window of a second tier cell, after which 
he scaled the outer wall and leaped from the top into 
the street; and on the 19th of November, 1873, William 
J. Sharkey, imprisoned for murder, escaped in daylight, 
disguised in woman's clothes provided by his mistress, 
who also gave him her visitor's ticket for the purpose 
of passing the guards. These are the most noted es- 
capes, but since Sharkey's performance, no prisoner 
has ever succeeded in passing the gates of the Tombs 
except in a legitimate manner. 

In the service of the Tombs is a peculiar vehicle, 
known as "Black Maria." It is a strong, enclosed 
wagon with a door at the rear end, and with wooden 
blinds around the upper part of the sides, for light and 
ventilation. It is used for conveying prisoners from 
the police stadons to the Tombs, and from that prison 
to the steamer on which they are transported to Black- 
well's Island. 



416 NEW YORK. 

II. 

THE TOMBS COURTS OF JUSTICE. 

The Police Court sits in a hall in the Centre street 
side of the Tombs, and is presided over by a Police 
Justice, who administers the law in a sharp, decisive 
way. It is opened every mornino- at an early hour, and 
on Sunday morning at six o'clock. The Justice is well 
acquainted with the class of offenders brought before 
him, and often startles some old sinner by suddenly 
bringing up some portion of his life that will not bear 
examining. His time is precious, and he despatches 
each case with a promptness and celerity that astonish 
a stranger. 

They are a queer set who come before the Justice at 
his mornino- session. Some are old offenders and are 
well known; a few are on trial for the first time. They, 
started out the night before to see the sights and have 
a good time, and now find themselves called to answer 
to the law for their conduct. Drunk and disorderly is 
the charge against the majority of the prisoners. Some 
of the offenders are women, and others mere children, 
arrested for vagrancy or minor offences. The Justice 
hears each case as it is brought before him, disposes 
of it promptly, and either releases the prisoner with a 
fine or a warning, sends him on for trial in a higher 
Court, or commits him to the Tombs for ten days or to 
one of the institutions on Blackwell's Island for a 
longer period. First offences are dealt with as leni- 
ently as the law will allow, but old offenders receive 
severe punishments. Though a stern foe to vice and 
crime, the Justice is disposed to be as lenient as pos- 
sible with those who are unfortunate, and often sends 



THE COURT OF SPECIAL SESSIONS. 417 

a prisoner away with sound good advice, when die un- 
fortunate has expected a harsh sentence. It is impos- 
sible for a criminal to deceive him, and he sternly puts 
down all attempts at sham innocence or mock peni- 
tence. During the sessions of the Court, many persons 
come to himwfth complaints against other parties. He 
listens to them patiendy, and where their cases are not 
provided for by the law, kindly advises them as to the 
proper course to pursue. By ten o'clock the business 
of the Court is generally over, and the Justice is off 
duty undl the next morning. 

The Court of Special Sessions is held in the large 
Egyptian hall on the right of the Centre street entrance 
to the Tombs. It is devoted endrely to criminal 
matters, and here are tried the cases which are too 
important to be settled by the Tombs or other Police 
Courts. Two judges consdtute the Court, but its 
sessions are often presided over by a single judge. 
Prisoners are defended here by counsel, and are al- 
lowed to introduce witnesses in their own behalf The 
Court has jurisdiction over all misdemeanors, and as 
there is no jury trial in this Court, the accused has his 
choice of a trial here before the judges, or a trial in the 
Court of General Sessions, before a jury. His decision 
must be made in writing, and he cannot retract it when 
once made. Capital cases, burglaries, and the more 
serious charo-es are sent to the hio-her Courts for trial. 

Hovering around the Special Sessions and the 
Police Court, is a species of lawyer known as "The 
Tombs Shyster." These men are licensed practitioners, 
but are without standing in their profession. They 
accost prisoners awaiting trial, and offer to defend 

27 



418 NEW YORK. 

them for any sum, from fifty cents to whatever amount 
the person is wilHng to pay. If the prisoner has no 
money the shyster will take his pay out in any kind of 
personal property that can be pawned or sold. He is 
not particular. He earns a precarious living, and is 
glad to receive anything for his services. He rarely 
succeeds in procuring the acquittal of his client, but 
collects his fee all the same. 

III. 

LUDLOW STREET JAIL. 

Just north of Grand street, and in the shadow of the 
Essex Market, from which it is separated by a narrow 
alley, is a gloomy looking brick edifice, fronting on 
Ludlow street, and extending back to Essex street. 
This is Ludlow Street Jail, the prison of the county of 
New York. It is sometimes called "The Sheriff's 
Prison." All persons arrested under process issued 
by the Sheriff of the county of New York are im- 
prisoned here. 

The majority of the prisoners are arrested for debt. 
Although imprisonment for debt is forbidden by the 
Constitution of the State, it is easy for a creditor to 
consign a debtor to the cells of this prison. He has 
only to appear before the proper Court and make out 
that his debtor is about leaving the State without pay- 
ing him the amount due him. An order of arrest is 
at once issued by the Court, and the unfortunate 
debtor is arrested by the Sheriff, or by one of his 
■deputies, and consigned to Ludlow Street Jail. Mem- 
bers of the National Guard arrested for violations ot 



IMPRISONMENT FOR DEBT. 



41.0 



the laws governing that organization are also confined 
here, and these constitute a large class of the inmates. 
The United States Courts also send their prisoners 
here, the General Government paying the county a 
certain sum per day for tlie accommodations furnished 
such persons. The prison contains a number of ex- 
cellent rooms, which prisoners who are willing to pay 
liberally for such comforts are allowed to occupy. 




mULOW STREET JAIL. 



The charges are extortionate, but the ordinary accom- 
modations provided by the county are so wretched, that 
those who have the means will pay any price to obtain 
better quarters. 

Perhaps no class of prisoners in New York arc 
subject to such extordons as the unhappy persons 
confined in Ludlow .Street Jail. Before reaching the 
prison they are obliged to pass through die hands of 



420 NEW YORK. 

the Sheriff's deputies, who receive no salaries, and are 
dependent for support upon the sums they can extort 
from their victims. No favor will be granted unless 
liberally paid for, and persons unacquainted with the 
lawful charo-es of the establishment are fleeced un- 
mercifully. 

When a man is arrested by a deputy sheriff and de- 
sires to give bail, he is taken to the Sheriff's office, and 
his friends who are likely to become his sureties are 
sent for. The law requires that a reasonable time shall 
be allowed him in which to find bail. If, however, he 
wishes to leave the Sheriff's office, he can do so only 
by feeing a deputy, and the amount demanded is in 
proportion to the prisoner's probable means. A man 
of wealth, if his bail be fixed at a large amount, not 
infrequently pays several hundred dollars a day for the 
privilege of being at large in the company of a deputy 
Sheriff. When the bondsmen appear, a charge of 
^i 1.75 is made for giving a bond. The law fixing the 
Sheriff's fees says that the charge for giving a bail 
bond shall be 37 cents; but this is interpreted to mean 
simply for signing the bond, and by making charges 
for drawing the bond, for a searcher's work in ascer- 
tainino- the standing of the bondsmen, and for several 
notar)^ fees, the above amount is reached. Lawyers 
assert that as high as ^21.75 has been charged, depu- 
ties making any charge they think will be paid, failing 
to pay which the defendant is incarcerated in Ludlow 
Street Jail, ^n many cases it is expected that the de- 
fendant's attorney, if he has one, will make no objection 
to the extortionate chargfe, and will not enlighten his 
client as to the legal fee. 



FLEECING THE PRISONERS. 421 

It is also alleg-ed that the Sheriff's deputies refrain 
from serving an order of arrest if 5^10 to ^20 is forth- 
comi^L^ and if the defendant shows a wiUino-ness to 
submit, the deputy repeats the process, until finally the 
plaintiff in the action compels the arrest to be made. 
Another common practice is to delay serving an order 
of arrest until after four o'clock, at which hour the 
Shsrift's office is closed. The arrested man is then 
willing to pay a considerable sum to have the order 
withheld until the next day, or to have his bonds taken 
at the deputy's house. Lawyers also say that no bail 
bond will be accepted at the Sheriffs office except one 
drawn there, the reason mven beings that the bond 
must be " satisfactory to the Sheriff." This is under- 
stood to mean that no bond will be considered "satis- 
factory" unless it is drawn in the* Sheriff's office and 
can be charged for. 

Efforts have been made by the Bar Association to 
put a stop to these abuses, but so far without success. 



422 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

PUBLIC SQUARES. ' 

THE BATTERY PARK — ITS HISTORY — THE BATTERY IN OLD TIMES — ITS PRESENT CONDITION — A 
DELIGHTFUL BREATHING PLACE — THE BARGE OFFICE — THE BOWLING GREEN— THE CITY 
HALL PARK— TOMPKINS SQUARE — SQUANDERING THE PUBLIC FUNDS— A FINE PARK RUINED — 
WASHINGTON SQUARE — UNION SQUARE AND ITS SURROUNDINGS' — THE "SLAVE MARKET" 
— STUYVESANT SQUARE — MADISON SQUARE — A DELIGHTFUL PLEASURE-GROUND — MAGNIFI- 
CENT SURROUNDINGS — GRAMME:*CY PARK — RESERVOIR SQUARE — MOUNT MORRIS SQUARE — 
MORNINGSIDK PARK — RIVERSIDE PARK. 

Besides the Central Park, New York contains a 
number of smaller pleasure grounds, all of which, with 
one exception, are tastefully laid off and handsomely 
ornamented with shrubbery, and some with statues and 
fountains. ^ 

Beginning at the lower end of the city, the first of 
these is Battery Park, which comprises an area of 
twenty-one acres, and occupies the extreme southern- 
most point of Manhattan Island, It derives its name 
from the battery, built on the site by orderof the Eng- 
lish authorities, in 1734. The old Dutch fort, built by 
the oricrinal settlers of Manhattan Island, was erected 
on the spot now occupied by the Bowling Gree?z. At 
this time the point of the island was rocky and swampy, 
but in 1792, after the independence of the country had 
been won, measures were begun for filling up the site 
and laying it off as a public park, and since then it has 
been used for that purpose. Until about thirty-five 
years ago, it was the favorite, as well as the handsom- 
est, pleasure ground in the city, and was surrounded 
by stately residences, occupied by wealthy and leading 



THE BATTERY PARK. 42o 

citizens. Trade at length invaded this reg-ion, and the 
Upper Ten were driven higher up the island ; the 
stately residences gave place to warehouses and of- 
fices, and the Battery was neglected. It became a 
rendezvous for tramps, and the favorite dumping- 
(Tfound for all sorts of rubbish. What was once the 
pride and boast of the city became one of its greatest 
nuisances. Such a state of affairs could not continue 
long, however, and in 1869 the park was redeemed. 
The General Government built a massive sea-wall 
some distance into the water, and the park was ex- 
tended to it, thus greatly enlarging its area The rub- 
bish which had accumulated lijere was carted away, 
and further deposits were prohibited under severe 
penalties ; the old rookeries and street-venders' stands 
which had accumulated about Castle Garden were re- 
moved, and the Battery was laid off into a handsome 
and well-arranged park. 

The Battery is handsomely planted with shade trees, 
flowers, and shrubbery, and is provided with broad 
stone walks, which traverse it in every direction. In 
the centre is a tasteful music pavilion, where concerts 
are given by the city band at stated times in the warm 
season ; and close by is a tall flag-staff, from which the 
national ensign floats proudly in the breeze. A mas- 
sive sea-wall of granite forms the water front, and is 
provided with broad stairways leading down to the 
water. At the northern end, projecting into the Bay, 
is Castle Garden, the famous emigrant depot, of which 
more elsewhere ; and at the southern end, on the 
water's edge, is the barge office of the Custom House, 
an elegant granite edifice in the Byzantine style of 



424 NEW YORK. 

architecture. This is the headquarters of the various 
boats used in the revenue service of the United States 
in these waters, and when completed will also be de- 
voted to the reception of passengers from the Europe- 
an steamers and their baggage, during the examina- 
tion by the Customs officials. The eastern portion of 
the Park is traversed by the line of the New York Ele- 
vated Railroad, which has one of its principal stations 
at the South Ferry, just beyond the limits of the 
i/rounds. 

The Battery is by far the coolest place in New York 
in summer. Here one may escape from the heats of 
the city, and enjoy the delicious sea-breeze which 
sweeps in unobstructed from the blue water, which can 
be faintly seen beyond the Narrows. The Inner Bay, 
a portion of the East River, the Hudson, with Brook- 
lyn, the islands of the Bay and their fortifications, and 
Jersey City, and the shipping in the harbor, and the 
wharves, are full in sight, and make up one of the 
grandest views to be seen on earth. 

The Bowling' G7'een is the name pfiven to a small, 
circular space at the lower end of Broadway. It is 
well shaded, is filled with pretty shrubbery and flowers, 
and Is ornamented with a fountain in the centre. It 
was the first public pleasure-ground laid out in New 
York, and dates from 1734. In 171 1, a leaden statue 
of George III, of England, was erected where the foun- 
tain now stands. It was pulled down at the outbreak 
of the Revolution, and the metal was run into bullets 
for the use of Washington's army. 

The City Hall Park, or "The Park" as it is termed 
by old residents, is located about a mile above the 



TOMPKINS SQUARE. 425 

Battery, and contains the City Hall and the County 
Buildings. It originally comprised eleven acres of 
i^round, and was shaded with fine old trees. The 
city, about ten years ago, ceded to the General Gov- 
ernment the extreme southern portion of the Park, as 
a site for a new Post Office, and this grand edifice has 
now considerably reduced the size of the Park. What 
is left is a large open space of several acres, laid out 
with walks, a fountain, trees, and shrubbery. It is the 
main thoroughfare between Broadway and the streets 
lying east of the Park. 

Tovipkins Square constitutes the only breathing 
space in the terribly overcrowded tenement house 
districts of the eastern side of the city. It comprises 
an area of ten acres, bounded by Avenues A and B 
and 7th and loth streets. It was presented to the 
city about half a century ago, by John Jacob Astor, as 
"a place of healthful recreation" for the masses. Since 
then it has cost the city more money than any public 
square within its limits. At the time it became public 
property it was adorned with noble shade trees and 
shrubbery, was laid off with pleasant walks, and the 
surface was perfectly level. Some years ago the city 
authorities were seized with a desire to diversify its 
surface with artificial hills, and laborers were at once 
set to work to make the so-called improvements. 
Half of the trees were cut down, and the work on the 
grounds, which was simply a political job, lagged. 
Then it was decided to convert it into a drill ground, 
or "Military Plaza," and the surface was again leveled, 
and the remainder of the trees swept away. By this 
time the Astor family had become disgusted with the 



426 NEW YORK. 

manner in which their ancestor's wish to provide a 
place of pleasant resort had been set aside, and they 
brought suit against the city to recover the property, 
basing their claim upon the plain fact that it had been 
diverted from the use for which it was given. The 
authorities then inaugurated another change. The 
drill ground was to be changed to a park again, and 
the work was immediately begun. It is still in progress. 

Washington Square lies at the lower end of Fifth 
avenue, three blocks west of Broadway. It is bounded 
by Waverley Place, McDougal street. West Fourth 
street, and University Place. It comprises an area of 
eio-ht acres, and contains some of the noblest trees in 
the city. A handsome fountain occupies the centre of 
the Square, and the grounds are tastefully laid off On 
the east side of the Square are a Lutheran Church and 
the Gothic edifice of the University of New York. 

Union Square lies between Broadway and Fourth 
avenue, and extends from 14th to 17th streets. It is 
about three and a half acres in extent, and contains a 
number of fine shade trees. In the centre is a hand- 
some ornamental fountain, and flowers and shrubbery 
give to the place an air of beauty in the spring and 
summer. Near the fountain is a pretty cottage, con- 
taining toilet rooms for ladies and children on the main 
floor, and accommodations for gentlemen in the base- 
ment. A broad plaza borders the Square on the 
northern side, along i 7th street, and here is arranged 
a long row of ornamental gas-lamps, which on special 
occasions illuminate the Square. Along the southern 
border, or 14th street side, are statues of Washington, 
Lafayette, and Lincoln. 



UNION SQUARE. 427 

Union Square lies in the centre of one of the busiest 
and brightest portions of New York. Broadway 
sweeps around it, with its rows of magnificent buildino-s, 
and the 14th street and Fourth avenue sides rival the 
great thoroughfare m their grand edifices. The south- 
east corner of Broadway and 14th street is marked by 
the Union Place Hotel, next door to which is the Union 
Square Theatre, and immediately opposite, across 
Broadway, towers the superb iron building of the Do- 
mestic Sewing Machine Company. On the east side,' 
facing on Fourth avenue, are the Union Square and 
Clarendon Hotels ; the Everett House faces the Square 
on 17th street, and on Broadway are Tiffany's and sev- 
eral of the finest stores in the city. Everything is 
bright and lively. Crowds line the sidewalks of the 
streets surrounding the Square, and pour along its 
broad walks, by day and night ; and after nightfall 
the dazzling rays of the electric lights illuminate the 
pretty grounds, with a brilliancy almost equal to that 
of day. Several of the leading places of amusement 
are in close proximity to Union Square, and this causes 
it to be thronged until a late hour of the night. The 
neighborhood is also a favorite rendezvous with the 
members of the theatrical profession, to whom that 
portion of 14th street opposite the Washington statue 
is known as "The Slave Market," in consequence of 
the large number of actors always to be found hanging 
around there in summer, looking for engagements. 

Shiyvesant Sqzcare lies to the east of Union Square, 
between 15th and 17th streets, and covers an area of 
a little more than four acres. It is bisected by Second 
avenue, and each of its two sections is enclosed with 



428 NEW YORK. 

an iron fence, the gates of which are locked at night. 
The grounds are prettily laid out, and are filled with 
shrubbery and flowers. In the centre of each portion 
of the square is a tasteful fountain. The ground was 
presented to the city by the late Peter G. Stuyvesant, 
The streets surrounding it are occupied by elegant pri- 
vate residences, and on the west side is St. George's 
Episcopal Church, one of the handsomest religious 
edifices in New York. 

Madison Square is the prettiest of all the smaller 
parks of New York, and is situated in the most attract- 
ive portion of the city. It lies between Broadway and 
Fifth avenue and Madison avenue, and 23d and 26th 
streets, and is six acres in extent. The iron fence 
which formerly enclosed it was removed some years 
ago, and this imparts to it an air of space, which is 
heightened by an open area in the midst of which it lies. 
It is well shaded by noble trees, and fairly smiles with 
gay flowers in the summer. A fine fountain in the 
centre is one of its chief attractions, and around it 
gather, on fair mornings, crowds of children and nurses 
from the neiehboringr fashionable ■ streets. A bronze 
statue of William H. Seward ornaments the south- 
western corner, while at the northvv^est corner is the 
noble statue of Admiral Farragut, also of bronze. At 
night the grounds are well lighted by the electric lamps 
on Broadway and Fifth avenue. The Fifth Avenue 
Hotel, and the Albemarle and Hoffman Houses face 
it on the west,»while on the north is the Hotel Bruns- 
wick, opposite which, across Fifth avenue, is the 
towering Hotel Victoria. 23d street is lined with 
elegant stores, and superb private mansions and a 



430 NEW YORK. 

Presbyterian Church rise along the Madison avenue 
side. So bright and beautiful are die park and all its 
surroundings, so full of life and gayety, so eloquent of 
wealth and splendor, is every object within view, that 
it is hard to realize that a little more than sixty years 
ao-o the pretty Square was used by the city as a Potter's 
Field, the last resting-place of the poor and wretched. 

Grammercy Park lies between Third and Fourth 
avenues, and extends from 20th to 21st street. It 
separates Irving Place from Lexington avenue, and is 
a small enclosure belonging to a number of gentlemen 
of wealth living around it. It is a pretty spot, and 
being private property, is kept locked, and is used only 
for the recreation of its owners and their families. 
Peter Cooper, Cyrus W. Field, Moses Taylor, Ex- 
Governor Tilden, and a number of other well-known 
citizens reside here. 

Reservoir Square is a small enclosure lying between 
Sixth avenue and the Distributing Reservoir on Fifth 
avenue and 40th and 42d streets. It occupies the site 
of the Crystal Palace, in which the World's Fair (the 
first international exhibition of America) was held, in 
1853. The building was d'estroyed by fire in 1858. 

Mjiuit Morris Square covers an area of twenty 
acres, and lies on the line of Fifth avenue, which sweeps 
around it on the east and west sides, between 120th 
and 1 24th streets. It is a favorite resort for the 
residents of Harlem and the vicinity. In the centre a 
rocky hill, ornamented with an observatory, rises to a 
height of one hundred feet. 

Morningside Park commences about five hundred 
feet from the northwestern corner of the Central Park, 



RIVERSIDE PARK. 431 

at iioth street, and extends to 123d street. It has an 
average breadth of about six hundred feet, and com- 
prises an area of about forty-seven acres. It is one 
of the unfinished parks of the city, and will not be 
completed for several years at least. 

Riverside Park lies between Riverside avenue and 
the Hudson River, and extends from 72d to 130th 
street. It is irregular in shape, is nearly three miles 
lonof, has an averasfe breadth of five hundred feet, and 
contains one hundred and seventy-eight acres. It is 
still unfinished, though the walks and drives have been 
laid out, and afford fine views of the river and the 
picturesque heights of Weehawken, on the New Jersey 
shore. Real estate men confidently predict that its 
vicinity will become the most fashionable residence 
quarter of New York. 



432 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE PAWNBROKERS AND THEIR WAYS. 

THE SIGN OF THE THREF. BALUS — LAWS RESPECTING PAWNEKOKERS — HOW LICENSES ARE ISSUED — 
DISREGARD OF THE LAW BY THE PAWNBROKERS — SOURCES OF PROFIT — EXCESSIVE INTEREST — 
STORAGE CHARGES — SALES OF UNREDEEMED GOODS — WHO ARE THE PAWNBROKERS — THE 
JEWS — A DISHONEST CLASS — SUCKING THE LIFE BLOOD OF THE POOR — HOW CUSTOMERS ARE 
SWINDLED — CHARACTERISTIC SCENE IN A PAWN SHOP — THE JEWS' ONE PER CENT. — AN INSIDE 
VIEW OF THE BUSINESS — DRUMMING UP CUSTOM. 

The stranger in passing through East Broadway, the 
Bowery, Chatham, OHver, Division, Catharine, Grand, 
Canal, Broome, or the neighboring streets, is struck 
with the number of quiet, dingy-looking shops over 
which are suspended the old sign of the Lombards — 
three gilt balls. These shops and the three-ball signs, 
all of the latter more or less dingy, may be seen in 
many other quarters of the city, but they are nowhere 
so numerous as in the streets named above, which are 
centres of the abodes of poverty and wretchedness. 
These are pawnbrokers' shops, and, as a rule, their 
proprietors are harpies, who suck the life blood of the 
poor, and grow rich upon their miseries. Of course, 
in all large cities there must of necessity be a great 
aggregation of poverty and misery. To the poor the 
pawnbroker is a necessity. They must have some 
place to which they can repair at once, and, by pledging 
such articles as they possess, raise the pittance they so 
sorely need. Municipal legislators the world over 
recognize this necessity, and endeavor to throw such 
safeguards around the business of pawnbroking that 
the poor shall not be entirely at the mercy of the 



LAWS RESPECTING PAWNBROKERS. 4oo 

brokers. In Great Britain the business is regulated 
by stringent laws, and in Continental F^urope nearly 
all the Governments have taken it into their own 
hands, and have organize'd vast establishments, known 
as Monts de Piete, w^here those in need of such assist- 
ance can obtain small loans on articles of almost every 
description. At these Government establishments the 
poor are treated fairly, the rate of interest charged is 
low' and every opportunity for the redemption of the 
property pledged is afforded. 

In New York, the law requires that licenses to do 
business as pawnbrokers shall be issued to none but 
persons of known good character. The Mayor of the 
city alone has the power of issuing such licenses, and 
Mayors of all parties have been in the habit of putting 
a very liberal construction upon the law. None but 
those so licensed can do business in New York. 
"Mayors of all cliques and parties," says the Report 
of the New York Prison Association, "have exercised 
their power with, apparently, little sense of the re- 
sponsibility which rests upon them. They have not 
ordinarily at least, required clear proof of the integrity 
of the applicants, but have usually Hcensed every 
applicant possessed of political influence. There is 
scarcely an instance where they have revoked a license 
thus granted, even when they have been furnished 
with proofs of the dishonesty of the holders." 

Section Eight of the Statute relating to pawnbrokers 
endeavors to impose some restraint upon their oper- 
ations by declaring that "No pawnbroker shall ask, 
demand, or receive any greater rate of interest than 
twenty-five per cent, per annum upon any loan not 



434 NEW YORK. 

exceeding the sum of twenty -five dollars, or than seven 
per cent, per annum upon any loan exceeding the sum 
of twenty-five dollars, under the penalty of one hun- 
dred dollars for every such offence." 

As a matter of fact, none of the pawnbrokers pay the 
least attention to this law. They know that the great 
majority of their customers are ignorant of the provi- 
sions of the statute, and that those who are familiar 
with it will not avail themselves of its protection; as 
they fear to lose the favor of the pawnbroker. Conse- 
quently they fix their own rates of interest, which may 
be said to average about three per cent, for a month, 
or any fractional part of a month, or thirt^^-six per cent, 
a year. Some of the more unscrupulous members of 
the fraternity, whose dealings are exclusively with the 
poor, charge a much higher rate, extorting as much as 
fifty per cent, from those whose needs are very great. 

Apart from the money received for interest, the 
pawnbrokers charge their customers exorbitant sums 
for storing in places of safety the articles left in their 
keeping. "On diamonds, watches, jewelry, silver-ware, 
opera-glasses, articles of vertu, ten per cent, on the 
amount loaned, over and above the interest, for what 
is called putting them away in the safes. On coats, 
vests, pants, dresses, cloaks, skirts, basques, from 
twenty cents to one dollar is charged for hanging up. 
On laces, silks, velvets, shawls, etc., from twenty-five 
cents to one dollar for putting away in bureau, ward- 
robe, or drawer. For wrappers, from fifteen to fifty 
cents is charged. Persons offering goods done up in 
papers are compelled to hire a wrapper, or the pawn- 
broker refuses to advance. The wrapper is simply a 



PROFITS OF PAWNBROKERS. 435 

dirty piece of old muslin. The hire of one of these 
wrappers has been known to amount to over five dol- 
lars in one year. Upon trunks, valises, beds, pillows, 
carpets, tool-chests, musical instruments, sewing ma- 
chines, clocks, pictures, etc., in proportion to their bulk, 
from one to five dollars is charo-ed for storage." 

Another source of profit to the pawnbroker arises 
from the sale of unredeemed articles. Advances are 
made at so low a rate that the property pledged is sure 
to bring more when put up for sale than the sum 
loaned upon it. The law requires that the amount re- 
ceived at such sales, over and above the pawnbroker's 
just claims, shall be returned to the depositor. The 
pawnbrokers, however, trouble themselves as little 
about this law as about that regulating interest. They 
coolly pocket the whole amount received, and the owner 
of the goods pledged loses the sum rightfully due him. 
Here, again, the pawnbroker trades upon his custom- 
er's igcnorance of the law. 

The majority of the pawnbrokers of New York arc 
Jews,, and are among the most rascally of that race. 
They do not monopolize the business, however, for 
there are a number of Englishmen, Irishmen, and even 
Americans, engaged in it. The more honest dealers 
are found among the Americans and Englishmen, 
The Jew pawnbroker is by nature a scoundrel, and so 
far as the observation of the writer goes, has not one 
redeeming quality. He advances the smallest amounts 
on goods pledged, extorts the highest rates of inter- 
est, and is the most merciless in his dealings with 
customers, of any of the fraternity. The Jews are so 
numerous in this business that they have given it its 



436 NEW YORK. 

peculiar reputation. These wretches suck the very 
life blood from the poor, and having gotten possession 
of their property, do not hesitate to sell It for many 
times its value, when they see an opportunity of doing, 
so. When the owner comes for his or her property, 
the pawnbroker declares, with well feigned regret, 
that it cannot be found, and either turns the owner out 
of doors, or buys up his pawn ticket at a heavy discount. 
He knows that the poor customer is in his power, and 
has neither the means nor the inclination to seek re- 
dress at law. These wretches do not hesitate to deck 
their families out in the clothing, shawls and jewelry 
pledged to them. Often the clothes are worn out, 
and the return of the pledge Is either refused, or the 
articles are restored In such a damaged condition as 
to be useless. Sometimes a spirited depositor will 
demand full redress for the loss so inflicted upon him. 
and will threaten the broker Avith an appeal to the 
Courts. If the broker is convinced that the depositor 
Is In earnest, he settles up promptly; but there is an 
end to his dealings with that person. He has no wish 
to have his transactions brought to the light of justice. 
Such a proceeding would bring unpleasant conse- 
quences in Its train, and he docs not desire such 
customers. , 

The majority of the pawn shops are dirty and repul- 
sive In appearance. Before each hangs the sign of the 
three balls, and the windows are filled with unredeemed 
pledges for sale, and are adorned with signs stating 
that money is loaned here on all kinds of property at 
the most liberal rates. Pushing open the dirty door, 
we enter a dingy apartment. The air is close and 



AN INTERVIEW WITH " MINE UNCLE." 437 

Stuffy, and the room smells strongly of garlic or onions. 
A man with an unmistakeably Jewish face and a villain- 
ous expression of countenance stands behind the nar- 
row counter, the greater part of which is partitioned 
off from the public part of the room. We take our 
stand, Invisibly, of course, and watch the proceedings. 

A young man enters, well dressed, and rather dissi- 
pated in appearance. The child of Abraham watches 
him narrowly, and begins to shake his head and groan, 
as if In pain. The visitor approaches the counter, and 
lays a gold watch upon it. The broker clutches it 
eagerly, examines It, and groans louder than ever. 

"Vat you vant on dis vatch?" he asks, mournfully, 

"Fifty dollars. It cost me one hundred and fifty," 
is the reply. 

"Fifty tollar! fifty tollar! Holy Moshish, vat you take 
me for!" Then, turning, he calls wildly, "Abraham! 
Abraham! you shust koom hier, quick." 

A second Jew, dirtier and more disreputable looking 
than the first, makes his appearance, and the proprietor, 
passing the watch to him, and holding up his hands, 
shrieks out, as if in despair, 

"Abraham! he vant fifty tollar on dat vatch. Do 
man ish grazy," 

"Ve shall be ruined," echoes Abraham, hoarsely. 
"Ve couldn't do it. 'Tish too much." 

The proprietor waves his arms wildly, takes the 
watch from Abraham, and eyeing the owner sharply 
for a moment, says : — 

"I tell you vat I do. I gif you fifteen tollar. How 
long you vant de monish ? " 

"Only for a month," replies the young man, evidendy 
struggling between disgust and despair. 



438 NEW YORK. 

"I let you haf fifteen toUar for de month," says the 
pawnbroker, seizing a ticket, and commencing to make 
it out. "You pays me vone tollar for de loan, an you 
pays me fifty cent to put de vatch in de safe, you know, 
it might git shtole if I leaf it out hier. Dat shuit you, 
mine young frient?" 

The young man has "been there" before, and knows 
that remonstrance is useless. He nods a silent affirm- 
ative, and the pawnbroker makes out a ticket for 
fifteen dollars, and hands him thirteen dollars and fifty 
cents, having deducted the interest and the charge for 
storage. The young man receives the money and the 
ticket, and goes out in silence. 

"Dat ish peesness," says Abraham, admiringly, as 
the proprietor puts the watch away. 

" Yesh," mutters the pawnbroker, with a satisfied air. 
"De vatch ish vort a hundred tollar. If he don't take 
it up, it vill bring us dat." 

The next customer is a poor woman* who comes to 
pledge some article of household use. She is ground 
down to the lowest cent, and charged the highest in- 
terest; and so the proceedings go on until we become 
heart-sick, and leave the place as invisibly as we came. 

The principal dealings of the pawnbrokers are, as 
we have said, with the poor. Life is hard in New 
York, and those who dwell under the shadow are 
obliged to make great sacrifices of comfort to keep 
body and soul together. Everything that will bring 
money finds its way to the pawn shop, and the miser- 
able pittance received for it goes to provide food. Too 
often articles of household use or clothing are pawned 
to raise money for drink, and the possessions of the 



VARIOUS KINDS OF PAWNBROKERS. 4;)D 

i 

family arc one by one sacrificed for this wrclchcJ pur- 
pose, until nothing- is left. 

The pawnbroker finds a very prolitable class of 
customers in the respectable working people of the 
city. Many of these regularly pawn articles, sometimes 
of value, at the first of the week, and redeem them 
when they receive their wages on Saturday. It is to 
the broker's interest to be obliging to these people, 
since they are regular customers, and he reaps a rich 
harvest from them in the exorbitant interest they pay 
him. 

It is the common belief that the pawnbrokers are 
also receivers of stolen goods. Some of the more un- 
scrupulous may make ventures of this kind, but as a 
rule the brokers have nothing to do with the thieves ; 
the risk of detection is too great, so they confine them- 
selves to what they term their "legitimate business," 
and leave dealings in stolen property to the "fences," 
who constitute a distinct class, and to whom we shall 
refer in another chapter. 

Another class of pawnbrokers do not own shops, or 
even offices. They conduct their business by calling 
at private houses, and asking if the ladies of the house 
wish any money advanced on jewelry or fine articles 
of clothing. Should they meet with a rebuff in the 
parlor they pass on to the kitchen, and rarely fail to 
find a customer in "Biddy." These dealers conduct 
large transactions; their customers are mainly ladies, 
who do not wish their dealings with them to be known ; 
and the obliging pawnbroker usually adds one or two 
per cent, more to his charges to pay for his silence on 
the subject. 



440 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE CENTRAL PARK. 

FLANS FOR A GRAND PARK — CHOICE OF A SITE — THE PARK COMMISSION ORGANIZED — DIFFICUL- 
TIES IN THE WAY — THE WORK BEGUN — THE RESULT — THE CENTRAL PARK OF TO-DAY — COST 
OP THE PARK — THE UPPER AND LOWER PARKS — THE ENTRANCES — THE POND — THE OLD 
ARSENAL — THE MENAGERIE — THE METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATORY — THE BALL GROUND — 
THE DAIRY — AMUSEMENTS FOR CHILDREN — THE GREEN — THE SHEEPFOLD — THE SEVENTH 
REGIMENT STATUE — STATUE OF WEBSTER — THE MARBLE ARCH — THE MALL — STATUES OX THE 
MALL — THE PLAZA — THE VINE-COVERED WALK — THE ARCADE — THE TERRACE— THE ESPLAN- 
ADE — THE BETHESDA FOUNTAIN — THE LAKE — BOATING — SKATING SCENES — THE CONSERVA- 
TORY WATER — THE RAMBLE — THE CAVE — THE BELVIDERE — THE CROTON RESERVOIRS — THE 
UPPER PARK — HARLEM BEER — THE OLD POWDER HOUSE — THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF 
ART — THE DI CESNOLA COLLECTION — THE OBELISK — A VENERABLE RELIC OF THE ANCIENT 
WORLD— THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY — THE TRANSVERSE ROADS — A TRI- 
UMPH OF ENGINEERING — THEPARK COMMISSION — THE POLICE REGULATIONS — PARK TRAFFIC. 

Thirty years ago the portion of Manhattan Island 
now occupied by the Central Park was a barren, 
rocky waste, broken by swamps, and as uninviting to 
the eye and dangerous to health as the most vivid 
imagination could fancy. It was an eyesore to the 
island, and the most enthusiastic speculator in real 
estate despaired of its ever being put to any useful or 
beneficial purpose. Great was the surprise of the whole 
city, therefore, when it was seriously proposed to con- 
vert this wretched looking tract into a grand park, which 
should be a lasting ornament to the Metropolis. 

For some years the want of a place of public recrea- 
tion larger than any of the existing squares or parks 
of the city, had been seriously felt. There was liter- 
ally no place in which a large number of persons could 
assemble for pleasure, or to which they could resort on 
Sunday or holidays for a quiet day away from the cares 
of their homes and their work. All the pleasure grounds 



DEMAND FOR A PUBLIC PARK. 441 

lay beyond the limits of the city. For owners of fine 
horses, or equipages of any kind, there was no driving 
place save the dusty Harlem Lane or Bloomingdale 
Road, It was universally admitted that 'a park must 
be provided within the city limits, at some point easy of 
access, and that such a pleasure ground must be in 
keeping with the splendor of the city, of which it must 
form for ages a principal ornament. The advocates of 
the scheme were perplexed, however, by the difficulty 
of finding a suitable site on Manhattan Island. 

In April, 185 1, Mayor Kingsland brought the subject 
before the Common Council, in a messao^e in which he 
urged that a suitable site for a park should be chosen 
at once, before the upper part of the island should be 
covered with streets and buildings. The Council 
promptly considered the matter, and the Committee to 
which it was referred reported in favor of purchasing 
"Jones' Woods," a tract of about 60 acres lying 
between Third avenue and East River and above 66th 
street. It was well wooded, had a fine frontage on the 
East River, and in the opinion of the Committee was 
the most desirable site in the city for the locadon ot a 
park. The scheme was warmly supported by numbers 
of leading citizens, and came near being successful. A 
bill for the purchase of "Jones' Woods" was introduced 
into the State Legislature, and was only defeated by a 
quarrel between two of the city members of that body. 
The Legislature then appointed a select Committee to 
ascertain whether a more suitable site could not be 
found. The attendon of the Committee was directed 
to the rocky and swampy region between Fifth and 
Eighth avenues and 59th and iioth streets. It was 



442 NEW YORK. 

admitted that the location was the most central and 
convenient of any on the island, but the enemies of 
the scheme declared that it could never be converted 
into an ornamental park, as the natural difficulties were 
so great that it would require a fabulous sum to over- 
come them, and that trees and shrubber)^ could never 
be made to grow there. Nevertheless the Committee 
were so much impressed with the location that they 
reported a bill, which became a law on the 23d of July, 
1853, authorizing the purchase of the land and its con- 
version into a Park. The land was purchased between 
1853 and 1856, and in May of the latter year the 
Common Council appointed a Board of Commissioners, 
to prepare and carry out a plan for the establishment 
of the Park, satisfactory surveys of the land having 
been previously made by Mr. Egbert L. Viele and a 
corps of assistants. The first Board was composed of 
the Mayor and Street Commissioners, as cx-officio 
members, Washington Irving, George Bancroft, James 
E. Cooley, Charles F. Briggs, James Phalen, Charles 
A. Dana, Stewart Brown, and several other leading 
citizens. Designs were presented by Frederick L. 
Olmstead and Calvert Vaux, and being accepted, those 
gentlemen were entrusted with the work of laying out 
the Park. 

To the majority of the citizens of New York, the task 
assumed by Messrs. Olmstead and V^aux seemed a 
hopeless one. The region selected for the Park was 
wretched, barren and sickly. Nature had done noth- 
ing more for it than to render it rugged and uneven. 
It was covered for a considerable extent with wretched 
shanties containing a squalid and filthy population, many 



MAKING THE PARK. 443 

of whom pursued disgusting occupations, which being 
contrary to law, were engaged in only at night. The 
place had long been a dumping ground for rubbish of 
all descriptions, a low scrub underbrush grew rankly 
over it, and pools of stagnant water filled the hollows 
between the rocky bluffs. Scarcely a tree grew along 
the whole space, and the grass to be found there was 
of the poorest quality. The work of grading streets 
through the region had been begun, and the rude 
embankments and ragged rock excavations thus cre- 
ated added much to the natural irregularities of the sur- 
face. Nevertheless, Messrs. Olmstead and Vaux were 
confident of success. They went to work promptly, 
were liberally sustained by the Park Commission and 
the City Government, and the result of their labors is 
now seen in the magnificent Central Park, which occu- 
pies this once wretched site, and which is the admira- 
tion of the whole country and the especial pride of New 
York. 

The Central Park derives its name from its situation 
in the centre of Manhattan Island. It is a parallelo- 
gram in shape, and is bounded on the south by 59th 
street, on the east by Fifth avenue, on the north by 
iioth street, and on the west by Eighth avenue. It is 
about two miles and a half long, half a mile wide, and 
comprises an area of eight hundred and forty-three 
acres. It ranks next to Fairmount Park, at Philadel- 
phia, as the largest in the Union, and is surpassed in 
extent by only three of the great parks of Europe — 
the Bois de Bologne, at Paris, the Prater, at Vienna, 
and the Phoenix, at Dublin. Nine miles of carriage 
drives, five miles of bridle-paths, and twenty-five miles 



444 NEW YORK. 

of walks, are laid off within its limits. More than five 
hundred thousand trees and shrubs have been planted 
in the grounds with success, the soil being adapted to 
the growth of almost any kind of vegetation. The 
rocky ridge which forms the backbone of the island 
passes through the centre of the Park, and has been 
made the means of rendering the scenery very beauti- 
ful and diversified. The stagnant pools have been 
converted into charming lakes, the raofo-ed rocks have 
been crowned with shrubbery and converted into pic- 
turesque adornments. Every defect has been changed 
into a beauty, and the admiration of the visitor is di- 
vided between the loveliness around him and the skill 
which could convert such a waste into a fairy land. 

The wooded portion of the Park covers about four 
hundred acres, and is intersected in all directions with 
walks, drives, and bridle paths. Charming views greet 
the visitor at every step, and lovely lawns stretch away 
on every hand. 

The total cost of the Central Park has been about 
;^i 5,000,000, including ^5,028,884, expended in pur- 
chasing the land. Large sums are spent annually in 
improvements. 

In the centre of the grounds, and upon the highest 
point within the enclosure, stands the Croton Reser- 
voir, which divides the Park into two sections, known 
as the Upper and Lower Parks. Up to the present 
time the greatest number of improvements have been 
bestowed upon the Lower Park, which contains the 
Pond, the Mall, the Terrace, the Lake, the Ramble^ the 
Dairy, and a number of buildings used for Park pur- 
poses. This portion of the grounds comprises one of 
the most beautiful specimens of landscape gardening 



ENTRANCES TO THE PARK. 



445 



in the world, and abounds in groves of noble trees, 
lovely lawns, walks and drives, and is ornamented with 
statuary, a lovely lake, beautiful fountains, and hand- 
some buildings. The Upper Park is more rugged, and 
constitutes a sort of miniature mountainous reeion, 
which is being improved and beautified with each suc- 
ceeding year. 

The principal entrances to the Park are on 59th 
street. The Fifth and Eighth avenue entrances are 
for vehicles as well as pedestrians, while the Sixth and 
Seventh avenue entrances are for pedestrians only. 
Other entrances are on Fifth and Eighth avenues and 
iioth street. All these will eventually be ornamented 
with noble gateways and arches. The names of the 
various entrances are as follows, and convey some 
idea of the emblematical designs to be followed in the 
erection of the gateways : — 

Fifth avenue and 59th street. The Scholars' Gate. 



Sixth 


«( (( a 


" Artists' Gate. 


Seventh " 


" 


" Artisans' Gate. 


Eighth " 


<( (( u 


" Merchants' Gate. 


Eighth " 


" 72d " 


" Women's Gate. 


Eighth " 


" 79th " 


" Hunters' Gate. 


Eighth " 


" 85th " 


" Mariners' Gate. 


Eighth " 


' " 96th " 


" Gateof All Saints. 


Eighth " 


" 1 00th " 


" Boys' Gate. 


Eighth " 


" iioth " 


" Strangers' Gate. 


Fifth 


u ^2d " 


" Children's Gate. 


Fifth 


" 79th " 


" Miners' Gate. 


Fifth 


" 90th " 


" Engineers' Gate. 


Fifth 


" 96th " 


" Woodman's Gate. 


Fifth 


" I02d 


" Girls' Gate. 


Fifth 


" Iioth " 


" Pioneers' Gate. 


Sixth 


" Iioth " 


" Farmers' Gate. 


Seventh " 


" Iioth " 


" Warriors' Gate. 



446 NEW YORK. 

The Park is easily reached by the Eighth avenue, 
Broadway, Sixth avenue, Madison avenue, and 59th 
street (Belt Road) Horse Cars, and by all the lines of 
the Elevated Railroads. From the entrances on 59th 
street charming pathways lead directly to the Marble 
Arch and the Mall. 

A few yards from the Fifth avenue gate is a fine 
bronze bust of Alexander Von Humboldt, by Professor 
Blaiser, of Berlin. It was presented to the Park by 
the German citizens of New York, on the 14th of 
September, 1869, the one hundredth anniversary of 
the birth of the great scientist. Immediately back of 
this bust is The Pond, a small sheet of water, irregular 
in shape, and lying along the lower end of the Park 
from Fifth to Sixth avenue. It covers about five acres, 
and Hes in a deep hollow, surrounded by steep and 
picturesque banks. The water consists of the natural 
drainage of the Park, and artificial means are provided 
for running it off into the city sewers should it rise too 
high. A beautifully shaded walk extends around the 
eastern and southern shores. 

Just within the Eighth avenue entrance stands a fine 
statue of Commerce, in bronze, presented by Mr. 
Stephen B. Guion. 

On the east side of the Park, opposite the Fifth 
avenue and 64th street entrance, is an old building 
which somewhat resembles the Cadet barracks at West 
Point. It was erected and used by the State of New 
York as an arsenal, but was purchased by the city in 
1856, for the uses of the Park. In the lower stories 
and in several buildings around it is a fine collection of 
animals, birds, and reptiles, constituting the Menagerie 



THE MENAGERIE. 447 

of the Park. In the whiter the cohection is greatly en- 
larg-ed by numerous animals and birds which are sent 
here for safe keeping by traveling shows which go into 
quarters in New York during the cold season. This 
is a favorite resort with visitors, especially with children, 
and is always crowded. The top floor of the Arsenal 
building contains the Meteorological Observatory, 
which is under the charge of Professor Daniel Draper. 
Some of the rooms are open to the public, and a num- 
ber of self-recordino" instruments for measurincr the 
velocity and direction of the wind, the fall of rain and 
snow, the variations of temperature, etc., may be ex- 
amined. The remainder of the building is taken up 
with the offices of the Park Commission and officials, 
and a police station. 

The southwest corner of the Park is occupied by the 
ball ground, a fine stretch of lawn, about ten acres in 
extent. It is set apart for the use of persons wishing 
to play base ball, cricket, croquet, or lawn tennis, and 
is provided with a comfortable brick cottage for the use 
of the players. 

Immediately north of the Pond is the South Trans- 
verse Road, and on the high ground above it is the 
Dairy, a tasteful gothic structure of brick and stone. 
Here pure milk and refreshments may be had at mod- 
erate prices.. Residents of the city can always pur- 
chase fresh milk or cream here, for sick children, and a 
great quantity is sold daily for this purpose. The 
proximity of the Dairy to the Transverse Road, on 
which a portion of it opens, enables that establishment 
to receive its supplies from vehicles in that road, and 
averts the necessity of bringing wagons and carts into 
the Park drives. t^ 



448 NEW YORK. 

A few yards from the Dairy is the Children's Sum- 
mer House, a large rustic pavilion for the special 
accommodation of children and their nurses, and close 
by is a cottage for the use of ladies and children. A 
number of patent swings stand near the Summer 
House, and are always filled with merry little folks. 
A few steps north of the swings is "The Carrousel," a 
circular building, fitted up with hobby horses and 
merr}^ go rounds, for the amusement of younger 
children. 

Immediately north of the Ball Ground is The Green, 
or, as it is usually called by visitors, the Common. It 
is a fine meadow of sixteen acres, and is occupied by 
a flock of imported sheep, in charge of a shepherd and 
his dog. \^isitors are rigidly excluded from the Green, 
save on Saturday, and sometimes on Sunday, when 
they are permitted to roam over it at pleasure. The 
northwest portion of the Green terminates in a hill, on 
the highest part of which is a flashy looking building, 
in which mineral waters are sold. 

Opposite The Green; and running along the Eighth 
avenue wall, is The Sheepfold, a range of picturesque 
buildings of red brick, in which the sheep are sheltered 
at night and during the bleak days of winter. 

On the west side of the Park, a little way above the 
Sheepfold, is a bronze bust of the great Italian patriot 
and agitator, Joseph Mazzini. It is of heroic size, and 
stands on a pedestal of granite, ten feet in height. It 
was presented to the Park by the Italian residents of 
New York, in 1878. 

A short distance above this bust, and also on the 
west drive, near 7 2d street, is J. O. A. Ward's noble 



STATUES IN THE PARK. 44<) 

Statue of "A Private Soldier of the Seventh Reo-iment " 
It is of bronze, of heroic size, and represents a soldier 
in the uniform of the regiment, standing at rest, and 
looking off into the distance. The statue rests upon a 
handsome pedestal of granite, and was erected by the 
regiment to the memory of its members who fell 
during the civil war. The pedestal is ornamented with 
trophies in bronze, near the base, and with bronze 
shields on each side, emblazoned with the Stars and 
Stripes of the National flag. On the principal or east 
front of the pedestal is the inscription, in 'bronze letters. 
Pro Patria et Gloria. Each face of the pedestal con- 
tains an inscription cut in the granite. These are as 
follows: On the east face, "The Seventh Regiment 
Memorial of 1 861-1865." On the north face, "In 
Honor of the Members of the Seventh Reeiment, N. G., 
S. N. Y., fifty-eight in number, who gave their lives in 
defence of the Union — 1 861 -1865." On the west face, 
"Erected by the Seventh Regiment National Guard, 
S. N. Y., MDCCCLXiii." On the south face, the inscrip- 
tion is similar to that on the north face. 

At the intersection of the West Drive and the drive 
from 72d street is a bronze statue, of heroic size, of 
Daniel Webster, modeled by Ball, of Boston, and pre- 
sented to the Park in 1876, by Gordon W. Burnham, 
Esq. 

A little to the northeast of the Dairy, and almost in 
the centre of the grounds, from east to west, is the 
Marble Arch, one of the most costly and beautiful 
structures in the Park. It is constructed of pure white 
marble, and its office was to carry the carriage-drive, 
in an unbroken line, to the Lake, and at the same time 
29 . 



450 NEW YORK. 

to furnish easy access from the lower level of the south- 
western part of the Park to the Mall. All the paths 
from the Sixth, Seventh and Eighth avenue entrances 
on 59th street, converge here, and lead to a handsome 
and wide arch of marble, entering it at its western end. 
On each side of the arch is placed a marble bench, 
which furnishes a delightful and cool resting-place for 
visitors in the hot days of summer. At the eastern 
end of the arch is an open area, walled and paved with 
marble, and provided with a drinking fountain. Broad 
stairways of marble, at the northern and southern ends 
of the area, lead from the archway to the Mall above. 

The Mall is the name given to the broad avenue, 
lined with four rows of American elms, and ornamented 
with statuary, extending from the Marble Arch to the 
Terrace. It is about one-third of a mile in length, 
about two hundred feet in width, is bordered on each 
side by lovely lawns, and constitutes the grand prome- 
nade of the Park. Along the southern end of the ave- 
nue are bronze statues of Fitz-Greene Halleck (by H. 
K. Browne), Sir Walter Scott (a copy of the statue in 
the Scott Memorial at Edinburgh), Shakspeare (by 
J. Q. A. Wood, the finest work of art in the Park), 
Robert Burns, and Alexander Hamilton. These give 
an air of dignity and beauty to this portion of the Park. 
A little to the west of the Mall is an ideal life-size fig- 
ure in bronze, representing an Indian hunter — the work 
of J. O. A. Ward, the designer of the Shakspeare 
statue. Near the northern end of the Mall is the 
Music Pavilion, a handsome and gayly ornamented 
structure, from which concerts are given by a fine band 
on certain days of the week during the warm season. 




THE MALL. 



451 



These concerts are excellent, and draw large audiences, 
which are accommodated with seats placed near the 
music stand. 

The Mall terminates at its northern end in a spa- 
cious and handsome Plaza, adorned with a couple of 
revolving fountains and a number of ornamental bird 




VtEW OF THE LAKE FROM VHE TERKACE. 



cages placed on iron posts. Flowers and plants abound 
here in the season. 

The northeastern side of the Mall is bordered by a 
pretty trelliswork of iron, forming an arbor, and raised 
about twenty feet above the promenade. This is called 
the Vine Covered Walk, and over it are trained roses, 
honeysuckles, and wisterias. It is a delightful resting 



452 NEW YORK. 

place, from which one can listen to the music of the 
concerts or watch the crowds on the Mall and the Ter- 
race. Both the Mall and this arbor command fine 
views of a large portion of the Park. The eastern 
side of the Vine-Covered Walk opens upon a circular 
space to which carriages are admitted. Across this 
circle is the Casino, a pretty cottage of stone, contain- 
inof an excellent restaurant. Good meals are served 
here, but the charges are somewhat high. The grounds 
to the east of the Casino contain the famous group in 
brownstone, known as "Auld Lang Syne," the work 
of Robert Thompson, a self-taught sculptor, and for- 
merly a stone mason. 

At the northern end of the Mall a broad stairway 
leads down to the Arcade, or the hall beneath the Ter- 
race. This hall is paved with handsome encaustic tiles, 
and the walls and ceilings are inlaid with encaustic 
tiles of a finer quality, ornamented with the most sump- 
tuous designs. This magnificent apartment is used as 
an ice cream saloon. 

The northern end of the Mall is separated from the 
Terrace by a massive and highly decorated screen of 
Albert stone, pierced with two large openings which 
o-ive access from the Mall to the Terrace. 

The Terrace is constructed of Albert freestone, of a 
soft yellowish brown color, and is one of the most im- 
posing structures in the grounds. It is provided with 
a footway on each side and a carriage drive in the cen- 
tre, and overlooks the Lower Terrace or Esplanade, 
and the Lake. At the northern end two grand flights 
of stone stairs lead to the Lower Terrace, and are 
ornamented with exquisite carvings of birds, animals. 



THE LOWER TERRACE. 4o)*> 

fruits, etc., and beautiful tracery, cut in the soft stone 
work. On the east and west sides of the stairways, 
the adjoining- grounds are lavishly ornamented with 
flowers, and slope gracefully from the Terrace to the 
Lake. 

The Lower Terrace or Esplanade, is a large open 
space extending from the stairways to the Lake. It is 
paved with stone blocks, and at the water's edge is a 
low stone wall with a seat running around the inner 
side. Tall flae staffs rise alonof the water front, and 
sustain handsome banners, which give to the place a 
gay appearance. 

In the centre of the Lower Terrace is a large stone 
basin, in the middle of which stands the Bethesda 
Fountain, the most beautiful ornament of the Park. 




THE LOWER 11 I 1 1 NTRAL PARK. 



The figure and the pedestal on which it stands are of 
bronze, as are also the four smaller figures beneath 
the upper basin. The fountain is the work of Miss 
Emma Stebbins, of New York; the design was exe- 
cuted in Rome, during the winters of 1864-67, and the 
models were sent to Munich and cast in bronze. The 



454 NEW YORK. 

idea of the work was suggested by the account of the 
Pool of Bethesda, given in the 2d, 3d and 4th verses of 
the fifth chapter of St. John's Gospel, especially the 4th 
verse, which relates that "An angel went down at a 
certain season into the pool and troubled the water." 
The principal and uppermost figure of the group rep- 
resents an angel with outspread wings, in the act of 
aliofhtinof on a mass of rock. The arms are extended 
in blessing, and the angel bears in her left hand a 
bunch of lilies, emblems of purity, and wears across 
her breast the cross bands of the messenger angel. 
From the left hand trickles a stream of water, and from 
the mass of rock over which she seems to hover the 
water gushes out into the upper basin, emblematic of 
Temperance, Purity, Health and Peace. At the feet 
of these figures is a second and larger basin, from 
which the water falls into the circular pool below. The 
fountain plays constantly during the mild weather, but 
in winter is covered over, to protect it from the severe 
frosts. It is exceedingly delicate and beautiful in con- 
ception and execution, and is deservedly admired by 
all who visit it. 

The Lake is a lovely sheet of water bordering the 
Terrace, from which it stretches away to the east and 
west. It Is irregular in shape, and is divided into two 
nearly distinct and unequal parts by a narrow strait, 
crossed by a graceful iron bridge. The larger and 
handsomer part sweeps away from the bridge to the 
west and north, with several arms. This lovely sheet 
of water covers an area of about twenty acres. The 
northern shore is high and rocky, terminating at several 
points in bold headlands, and is occupied by the Ram- 



456 NEW YORK. 

ble. To the east of the Terrace is a handsome boat 
house, where rowboats may be hired for a ride around 
the Lake for a small sum. In the winter diis building 
is used for the accommodation of skaters. On fair 
days the Lake is covered with fleets of boats manned 
by expert rowers in sailor costume, and filled with gay 
parties of pleasure seekers. Landing places are 
located at various points on the shore, and are orna- 
mented with rustic structures which command fine 
views of the water and surroundino^ grrounds. Num- 
bers of snow-white swans float dreamily over the 
edge of the Lake, waiting for food thrown to them by 
visitors. 

No lovelier sheet of water is to be found on the 
globe than this beautiful- lake, the larger portion of 
which Hes west of the strait and the Bow Bridge. On 
the north side the shore rises up in steep bluffs ; on the 
south is the mao;nificent Terrace, and the eastern and 
western shores slope gracefully in verdant lawns from 
the main carriage drives to the water. From whatever 
point on the shore you view it, the quiet lake stretches 
away, the very embodiment of peace and repose, its 
clear bosom gleaming in the bright rays of the sun, 
and reflecting the various objects which surround it. 
On a bricrht moonlio-ht niaht in the summer the scene 
is indescribably beautiful. The waters lie gleaming in 
the golden light, breaking into myriads of flashing rip- 
ples as a ghost-like swan glides majestically by, or as 
they are broken by the dip of oars. Scores of plea- 
sure boats, well filled, and each bearing a red or blue 
light, skim over the surface like so many fire-flies ; the 
air is musical with the dash of oars and the sound of 



vSCENES ON THE LAKE. 457 

merr}^ voices ; and the breeze comes off the shore 
laden with the rich perfume of flowers. Above and 
below this magic realm the great city toils on, sending 
up its ceaseless roar heavenward ; sorrow and care, 
mirth and recklessness, vice and crime, hold the dwell- 
ers in their resistless grasp; but here all is peace and 
beauty. This is a charmed world, and you can enjoy 
it regardless of the busy Babel by which it is sur- 
rounded. The sound of a distant bell tolling the 
hours, the scream of a locomotive, or the hoarse 
whistle of a steamer in the river, are the only sounds 
of the outer world heard here, and you scarcely heed 
them as you surrender yourself to the witghery of the 
scene around you. 

During the winter the Lake presents a gay and bril- 
liant sio-ht. The larofe boat house near the Terrace is 
thronged with visitors, some of whom come to enjoy 
the skating and others to watch the sport. The water 
of the lake is covered to a depth sufficient to prevent 
serious accidents in case the ice should break, and 
every precaution is taken to ensure the safety of the 
skaters. The ice is carefully examined every day, 
weak spots are marked with danger signs, and every 
night the surface of the ice is scraped smooth, to ren- 
der it fit for the next day's sport. Huge reflectors are 
placed behind the gas-lamps on the shore, and at night 
these shed a flood of liorht over the frozen surface, ren- 
dering it as bright as day, and enabling the skaters to 
enjoy their pleasure until midnight. Printed rules for 
the government of skaters are posted at conspicuous 
points, and all persons are required to conform to them 
on pain of being compelled to leave the ice. A large 



458 NEW YORK. 

red ball is hoisted on the Arsenal building- when the ice 
is in good condition, and the cars of the railway lines 
running to the Park are provided with small white 
flags, on each of which is printed a red ball, thus in- 
forming the public that their favorite winter pastime is 
the order of the day. Buildings for the accommoda- 
tion of skaters are erected on the shore of the Pond 
and the Upper Lake, which also furnish their share of 
amusement. Thousands of skaters are on the ice 
daily, and the scene at such times is well worth wit- 
nessing. 

To the east of the Terrace, along the Fifth avenue 
side of the Park, is a small, oval lake, covering about 
two acres and a half of space. This is the Conserva- 
tory Water, and is used principally by the young folks 
■for miniature yacht races. At some future, and it is 
hoped not distant day, the grand Conservatory of the 
Park will be erected on the eastern shore of the water, 
and will front on Fifth avenue. 

The high ground north of the Lake is known as the 
Ramble. This is one of the most charming pordons of 
the Park, extends as far northward as the old Reser- 
voir, lies between the East and West Drives, and covers 
an area of about thirty-six acres. It is a labyrinth of 
winding foot-paths, well shaded, and abounding in ex- 
quisite scenery, deep thickets, little brooks and pictur- 
esque waterfalls crossed by miniature bridges, small 
stretches of lawn, bits of rock work, and delightful 
views of the Lake. The grounds are well supplied 
with benches and rustic seats, on which the visitor may 
rest and enjoy the beauties of the scene at his ease. 
At several points winding paths lead down to rustic 



THE UPPER PARK, 450 

arbors on the Lake shore. At the upper end o£ the 
Ramble a path leads into a rocky glen, at the end of 
which is situated the Cave, a natural opening in the 
rocks, of considerable size. Here are kept a number 
of owls, whose solemn air of wisdom is heightened by 
the constant gloom in which they dwell. 

The Ramble terminates on the north, in the highest 
point in the Park. Here is located the Belvedere, an 
open space walled and paved with stone, from which 
rises an ornamental tower of granite, fifty feet high. 
Visitors are admitted to this tower, and from it can 
command a view of the entire Park, the Reservoirs, the 
city and country to the northward as far as Harlem and 
the Hiofh Bridcre, the entrance to Long- Island Sound, 
and the portion of the city lying immediately below the 
Park, The Belvedere stands at the southwest corner 
of the Old Reservoir, and can be approached only on 
foot. 

Immediately north of the Belvedere are the Croton 
Reservoirs, two in number, known as the Old and New 
Reservoirs. The former lies in the centre of the 
grounds, and extends from 79th street to 86th street, 
and the latter occupies almost the entire width of the 
Park, from 86th to 96th street. Together they cover 
an area of one hundred and forty-three acres. A 
bridle path and a walk encircle the New Reservoir and 
are much resorted to on account of the coolness of the 
location and the fine view. 

Beyond the Reservoirs is the Upper Park, naturally 
the most beautiful portion of the grounds. But little 
has been done up to the present time in the way of 
improvement. Its principal attractions are Mount St. 



4G0 NEW YORK. 

Vincent, on the east side, above which is a pretty 
sheet of water, known as Harlem Meer, occupying the 
northeast corner of the Park, and covering an area of 
twelve and a half acres; the Pool, a small lake of two 
acres on the west side, just above looth street; and 
the old Powder House at the extreme northern end of 
the orrounds, near Sixth avenue and iioth street. A 
large part of what was once known as McGowan's 
Pass lies in the North Park. Through this pass the 
American army effected its retreat from New York 
after the disastrous battle of Long Island, Some of 
the old earthworks thrown up on this occasion are still 
to be seen here. 

On the Fifth avenue, or east side of the Park, oppo- 
site 83d street, stands the Metropolitan Museum of 
Art, one of the greatest attractions of the city. The 
edifice, now completed, which is only one of a projected 
series of buildings, is constructed of red brick with 
sandstone trimmings, in the Gothic style, and is 218 
feet long and 95 feet broad. The basement story 
contains the offices of the Museum and a hall devoted 
to the exhibition of works of industrial art. The next 
floor contains the main hall, a noble apartment, the 
roof of which rises in a graceful curve, held up by 
sweeping girders, the iron work being painted of an 
approved color. All the decorations of the building 
are handsome, but are subdued in tone, in order to 
render the collections more attractive than the rooms 
in which they are contained. "In the west entrance 
hall on this floor, which fronts the Park, are the modern 
statues. In the central hall are the loan collections, 
in numerous cases. Here are laces and embroideries. 



THE METROFOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART. 461 

At the east end are the Greek and Etruscan vases, 
with Kensington Museum reproductions at the west 
end. Right and left are numerous show cases con- 
taining the innumerable loans made to the Museum, 
such as Japanese and Chinese ivories, Egyptian an- 
tiquities, rare tomes, old books in their superb bindings, 
Limoges enamels, antique arms, with Dresden, Sevres, 
and Majolica ; Oriental and Japanese stuffs, silver 
repoussee, Venetian glass, miniatures, and an endless 
variety of artistic objects. In the north and south 
aisles of the east hall are the Cyprian antiquities, the 
vases, terra-cottas, bronzes, busts, and statues of the 
Cesnola collection. In this hall these Cypriote objects 
occupy quite three sides of the room, besides being 
placed in many additional cases. The most careful 
attention has been paid to their classification, which 
must be of the greatest advantage to those desiring to 
study them. The two sarcophagi, which are the 
capital pieces of the Cesnola collecdon, are at the back 
of the hall. On the left-hand side, facing the entrance, 
has been carefully placed the immense Cesnola collec- 
tion of pottery. Mounting to the next floor is easy, as 
the steps have a comfortable rise. The visitor then 
arrives at the upper halls. Here are the pictures, in 
two halls, the east and west ones. Proceeding along 
the gallery taken up by the Avery collection of porce- 
lain, the east picture gallery is reached. Continuing 
the circuit, the south gallery may now be traversed, 
which leads to the west hall. This south gallery 
contains the most precious of General Di Cesnola's 
discoveries, the Curium treasures, with the iridescent 
glass. Here, too, are all the bronzes, Venetian glass, a 



462 NEW YORK. 

collection of watches, and bibelots innumerable. The 
Di Cesnola collection consists of a large number of 
ancient art objects exhumed at Cyprus by General Di 
Cesnola, United States Consul at that island, and is 
regarded by archaeologists as the most remarkable and 
valuable in the world. The eastern picture gallery 
contains a number of the best paintings by the old 
Dutch, Flemish and Spanish masters; the western 
gallery is devoted to pictures loaned to the Museum. 
The public is admitted to the Museum, free of charge, 
on Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. 

A short distance west of the Museum is the Obelisk, 
or, as it is popularly, but erroneously termed, "Cleo- 
patra's Needle." It stands on a slight knoll in one of the 
most commanding situations in the Park, and consti- 
tutes one of the chief attractions of the grounds. It 
was presented to the city of New York in 1877, by 
Ismail Pasha, then the reigning Khedive of Egypt, and 
was brought across the Atlantic in 1880, through the 
remarkable engineering skill of Lieutenant-Comman- 
der Gorringe, of the United States Navy. It was suc- 
cessfully removed from the vessel in which it made the 
voyage, conveyed from the river, and set up on its pres- 
ent site in the autumn of 1880. The cost of the entire 
undertaking was paid by William H. Vanderbilt, Esq. 

The Obelisk stands upon a pedestal of massive 
granite, built upon solid rock. It is a monolith, four 
sided in shape, tapering to a point at the top, is sixty- 
seven feet two inches in height, five and a half feet 
square at the apex, and weighs about two hundred 
tons. It is cut from a single block of granite hewn out 
of the quarries at Syene, in Upper Egypt, and its four 




THE U13KLWK. 



.r,i NEW YORK. 

sides are all covered with inscriptions in hieroglyphics 
cut into the stone. It was one of two obehsks erected 
in front of the Temple of the Sun. at HehopoUs (or 
On as it is termed in the Kble). a city ot Lower 
E<n-pt, which stood not far from the present cty of 
cSro These obelisks were erected by Thothmes III 
to commemorate his victories. This king was one of 
the crreatest conquerors in Egyptian history, and h,s 
dominions extended from India on the east to the isles 
of the Mediterranean on the north and west, and to 
the southern confines of Equatorial Africa. Three 
centuries after his death, another great king, Rameses 
II (believed to be the Greek SesostrisK caused these 
obelisks to be set up a second time at Heliopolis, and 
a new line of inscriptions full of his own more pompous 
tides and names was added, on the right and eft sid.s 
of the central line, all along the four sides of the stone 
Centuries afterwards, when Rome had brought Egypt 
to her feet, these obelisks were removed from Heliopo- 
lis to Alexandria. It is not certain by whom they were 
removed : some authors attribute the work to Julius 
Cssar some to Marc Antony, and others still to 
Augus'tus. The companion to this obelisk was pre- 
sented to the Brldsh government by Ismail Pasha, and 
was conveyed to London in .877. and set up on the 
Tliames embankment. . 

It is no wonder that the Obelisk is the object of so 
much interest. It is one of the oldest existing monu^ 
ments of the ancient worid, and carries us back hfteen 
centuries bevond the Christian Era. It was venerable 
when Moses enjoyed the favor of the Eg^'Pt-a" cour^ 
as ■■ the son of Pharaoh's daughter, and he must have 



THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY. 4(>5 

seen it frequently. It witnessed all the various changes 
in the destiny of Egypt, under its native rulers and 
foreign masters, for three thousand years, and was 
already fifteen hundred years old when it was removed 
from its original site to Alexandria. What changes it 
shall behold in its new home in the metropolis of the 
Western World the future alone can disclose. 

Just without the limits of the Park, and between 
Eighth and Ninth avenues and 77th and 8 ist streets, 
but under the control of the Park Commission, stands 
a massive and handsome building of red brick, with 
yellow sandstone trimmings, erected in the modern 
Gothic style. This is the American Museum of Natu- 
ral History, the present edifice being only a single 
wing of the immense mass of buildings which is to be 
erected for the uses of the Museum. The buildino- is 
fireproof; the corner-stone was laid on the 2d of June, 
1874, by President Grant, and the Museum was form- 
ally opened by President Hayes, on the 2 2d of Decem- 
ber, 1877. "The general interior arrangement is 
probably the best that has been yet devised for the 
purpose, and, indeed, leaves litde to be desired. The 
collecdons are arranged in large halls, or in balconies 
running around them ; and .at each end of these halls 
is a large vesdbule, containing stairways and offices 
for the curator of the department to which the fioor is 
devoted. The entrance is at present at the south end. 
Each hall is 170 feet long by 60 wide inside the walls. 
The lowest story is 18 feet high; the second, or prin- 
cipal story, including the balcony or gallery, 30 flet ; 
the upper story 22 feet; and the story in the mansard 
roof 16 feet. On the lower story, the desk cases, in 



466 NEW YORK. 

the centre of the Jiall, are filled with the Jay collection 
of shells, presented by Miss C. L. Wolfe, as a memo- 
rial of her father, the first President of the Museum. 
The remainder of the hall, excepting several cases filled 
with building stones, marbles, woods, and wax fruits, is 
devoted to mounted specimens of mammalia. The 
floor of the second story hall contains specimens of 
birds exclusively, arranged in geographical order. 
The gallery is set apart for the archaeological depart- 
ment, and contains specimens of the implements of the 
Pacific islanders, spears and lances of various peoples, 
carved war-clubs, Indian dresses and weapons, stone 
axes, pottery, skulls, skeletons, etc., all in upright 
cases ; in the railing case is the De Morgan collection 
of stone implements, from the valley of the Somme, 
Northern France ; the Bement specimens of the stone 
age of Denmark ; specimens from the Swiss lake 
dwellings ; Squier and Davis's collection, from the 
Mississippi Valley, and several minor collections. On 
the upper or third floor is the James Hall collection of 
geologic specimens of New York State, recently pur- 
chased by the Museum, and a number of other speci- 
mens in the same department of science. The attic 
story is set apart for work and study rooms for those 
carrying on original researches. The peculiarity of the 
arranofement for the different wall cases containing the 
collections Is, that they extend out at right angles to 
the windows, so that the end against the wall is but a 
small part of the whole, while the light, which, owing 
to me large window space gained by this arrangement 
is exceedingly abundant, Is permitted to travel to every 
nook and corner of the hall, so that there is not a spot 



THE TRANSVERSE ROADS. 467 

anywhere in the exhibition rooms where a shadow is 
cast" The public is admitted to the Museum free of 
charge on Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and 
Saturdays. 

One of the problems presented to the engineers who 
laid out the Park consisted in devising a means of 
communication between Fifth and Eighth avenues, 
along its course. As it lay in the centre of the island 
for two miles and a half from north to south, it would 
prove a serious obstacle to the transaction of the busi- 
ness of the city unless some means of communication 
should be provided between the above-mentioned 
avenues. To carry the city streets through the grounds 
would be to destroy the Park, and to open the carriage 
roads to vehicles of trade would sadly mar the pleasure 
of visitors. The skill of the engineers and the natural 
formation of the land soon afforded a solution of the 
problem, difficult as it seemed. A system of transverse 
roads was devised and successfully carried out. These 
roads are among the "curiosities" of the Park, and 
constitute one of the most skillful engineering triumphs 
of the time. The transverse roads are four in number, 
and are used to carry 65th, 79th, 85th, and 97th streets 
across the line of the Park. They follow the natural 
depressions between the hills and rocks of the Park, 
are sunken far below the general level of the grounds, 
and 'are walled up on each side with massive masonr)-. 
The carriaofe drives and walks of the Park cross them 
by means of handsome bridges, which are so embowered 
in vines and shrubbery that the road below Is entirely 
unseen. Visitors pass over them without being con- 
scious of their existence. These roads are inaccessible 



^po NEW YORK. 



from the Park, are paved like the city streets, and are 

litrhted with gas at night. , , „f .u^ Hp 

The Central Park is under the contro of the De- 
partment of Public Parks, which has its headquarters 

r,Tunion Square. The board consists of four com- 
at 36 Union bquare. ^ ^_^j 

missioners, appomted for hve years d> j 

Board of Aldermen. The President of the Board ( 
Boara 01 r^ 46t;oo but the other 

receives an annual salary of $6500, d 
members are not paid for their services. The Lom 
"Jstners draw u'p and enforce the '^^'^J^ 
the government of the Park, and appomt the pol ce 
force to which the care of the grounds and the property 
r hem is entrusted. The Park police are uniformed, 
n gray, and have the powers of ordinao^ pohcemen^ 
Thir headquarters are at the Arsenal building. A 
poU^eman is on duty at each entrance, and others o | 
d.e force patrol the grounds, to prevent violations of 
Se rules,'to render assistance to pe-ns in need of t 
The rules for the government of visitors are ver) 
simpk They are forbidden to pluck the shrubberj- or 
aowt. to write upon or otherwise deface the seats, 
K'riHcres arches, or buildings, to feed the birds, or an 
'Joyihe animal's, and to walk on the grass except m 
uch places as are marked by signs bearing the worf 
"Common." Every convenience - P™-<J^/^; J^^ 
comfort of visitors. More than ten thousand seats a e 

Mattered through the grounds, - ^^^^^ °^^ J^r ! 
beina under vine-covered arbors. Water closeis 
.endemen, and cottages with toilet conveniences for 
fadtsTnd children, each of the latter m charge of a 
femae attendant, are placed at convenient pomts. j 



OLD TRINITY." 4^9 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

TRINITY CHURCH. 

" OLD TRINITY '' — THE THREE CHURCHES— DESCRIPTION OF TRINITY CHURCH — THE INTERIOR 

THE ALTAR AND REREDOS — THE WINDOWS — THE SERVICES — FINE MUSIC — DAILY SIGHTS IN 
TRINITY — THE SPIRE — THE CHIMES— VIEW FROM THE SPIRK— THE CHURCHYARD- NOTBD 
TOMBS— TRINITY PARISH — THE CHAPELS— WEALTH OF THE PARISH— ITS NOBLE WORK. 

The most interesting- church edifice in New York is 
Trinity Church, or, as it is affectionately termed by the 
citizens, " Old Trinity." It stands on Broadway oppo- 
site the head of Wall street, and forms one of the most 
conspicuous objects on the great thoroughfare. The 
present edifice is the third that has stood on the site. 
The first church was completed in 1697, '^"^l was de- 
stroyed in the great fire of 1776. A second church 
was built in 1790, and in 1839 this was demolished, and 
the present stately edifice begun on its site. It was 
completed and consecrated in 1846. 

Trinity is one of the few specimens of pure Gothic 
architecture to be found in the United States, and is 
stately and beautiful within and without. It is built of 
brownstone from the base to the summit of the spire, 
and the interior is finished in the same material. The 
walls are fifty feet high, and the arch of the ceiling is 
sixty feet above the floor of the church. The roof is 
supported by massive brownstone columns. The spire 
is two hundred and eighty- four feet in height, and is 
surmounted by a bright gilded cross. The church con- 
sists of a nave, choir, and aisles. On each side of the 
choir are the vestry rooms. The south room contains 



470 NEW YORK. 

the offices of the clergy, and is also the robing room. 
The north room contains a fine tomb, with a full length 
effig)"^ in stone, to the memor)^ of Bishop Onderdonk. 
The chancel occupies the choir, and is beautifully fitted 
up. At the sides are stalls for the clergy and choris- 
ters, with a fine organ on the north side, and at the 
back are the altar and reredos, which were erected as 
a memorial to the late William B, Astor, by his sons, 
both of whom are active members of the church. They 
are very beautiful, and are of a soft colored stone, 
richly ornamented with sculptures. The windows of 
the church are of stained glass, those at the sides being 
very simple. The great window back of the altar is a 
magnificent work. Over the Broadway entrance is a 
gallery containing the grand organ, one of the most 
powerful instruments in the city. 

Trinity is noted for its elaborate services. Morning 
and evening prayer are celebrated in simple style 
every day, but on Sundays and feast days the full 
choral service Is used. The choir consists of men and 
boys, carefully trained by the Musical Director; they 
are surpliced, and are famous for their skill. No 
grander or more impressive service can be heard in 
the land than in Old Trinity on Sunday mornings. The 
church is always kept open during the day, and It Is no 
uncommon sight, during business hours, to see numbers 
of persons kneeling in the pews of the church in silent 
prayer. A soft, subdued, holy light streams in through 
the colored windows, giving to the beautiful interior 
an air of solemnity, In harmony with Its sacred char- 
acter. 

The spire of the church faces Wall street, and is 




TRINITV CHURCH. 



472 NEW YORK. 

built of solid stone. It contains a clock, with three 
faces, placed just above the roof of the church, and a 
great bell, which strikes the quarters, half-hours, and 
hours. Above these is the finest chime of bells in the 
city. They are played by machinery, and their music 
is well worth listening to. All through the day and 
night the voices of the bells float down into the city, 
solemn and sweet, reminding the heedless passers-by 
that time is flying and eternity drawing nigh. The 
view from the balcony at the base of the spire, two 
hundred and fifty feet above the street, is sublime. 
The gazer looks down upon Broadway and Wall 
street, with their busy crowds, and over the city far 
away to the northward. From this elevated point you 
can see almost the entire city, Brooklyn, Jersey City, 
and the suburban towns on the Jersey shore, back to 
the Orange Mountains; the harbor, the East river, the 
Narrows, the Lower Bay, Staten Island, Long Island 
Sound, and the distant hills of Connecticut. Nearly 
four millions of people are below you, with a dozen 
cities and towns. 

The church stands in the midst of a large open 
space, filled with crumbling tombstones and monu- 
ments, shaded with noble trees and ornamented with 
flowers. At the northern end, on the Broadway side, 
facing Pine street, is "The Martyr's Monument," a 
splendid structure of bmwnstone, erected to the 
memory of the " Patriotic Americans who died during 
the Revoludon, in British Prisons." 

Trinity Church is the "mother" of a vast corpora- 
tion, embracing the following chapels : St. Paul's, St. 
John's, Trinity Chapel, St. Chrysostom's, St. Augus- 



A WEALTHY CHURCH. 473 

tine's, and St. Cornelius's, the last being on Governor's 
Island. All these establishments are supported from 
the funds of the parish, with the exception of Trinity 
Chapel, which has a wealthy congregation, and is main- 
tained by its members. These constitute what is known 
as "Trinity Parish," at the head of which is the rector 
of Trinity Church. Each church or chapel has its 
pastor and vestry, who are subject to the control of the 
rector and vestry of " Old Trinity." The salaries are 
liberal, and are promptly paid. Each clergyman with a 
family is provided w^ith a furnished house; should any 
clergyman die in the service of the parish, a liberal 
provision is made for his family, and superannuated 
ministers are supported in comfort during their lives. 

Trinity is the richest church in the United States. 
Its w^ealth consists almost entirely of real estate. In 
1697 the English crown granted to it the land on 
which it stands, and in i 705 supplemented this grant 
with the gift of the immense tract known as "Queen 
Anne's Farm," embracing the entire district lying 
along the North River, from Vesey to Christopher 
street. Much of this was subsequendy donated by 
Trinity to various institutions needing assistance, but 
the corporation still owns a large part of this valuable 
district, worth at present many millions of dollars. 
Much of this property is unproductive, however, so that 
the actual income of the corporation is only about half 
a million of dollars. It makes a good use of this, how- 
ever, and besides paying its own expenses, lends a lib- 
eral support to many needy churches in the city, and 
maintains a number of benevolent institutions. 



474 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

THE LOST SISTERHOOD. 

PREVALENCE OP PROSTITUTION IN NEW YORK — POLICE STATISTICS — FIRST-CLASS HOUSES — 
THE PROPIUETRESS — THE INMATES — THE ARISTOCRACY OF SHAME — THE VISITORS — 
VISITS OF MARRIED MEN — AVERAGE LIFE OF A FASHIONABLE PROSTITUTE — THE NEXT 
STEP — THE SECOND-CLASS HOUSES — TERRORS OF THESE PLACES — THE GREENE STREET 
BAGNIOS — GOING DOWN INTO THE DEPTHS — THE NEXT STEP — THE WATER STREET HELLs" 
— AVERAGE LIFE OF A PROSTITUTE — ■" THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH " — HOW YOUNG GIRLS 
ARE TEMPTED INTO SIN — EFFORTS TO SAVE AN ERRING DAUGHTER — THE STREET WALK- 
ERS — THE PANEL HOUSES HOW MEN ARE ROBBED AND MURDERED IN THESE HOUSES 

THE CONCERT SALOONS — THE WAITER GIRLS — THE DANCE HALLS — THE " BUCKINGHAM " — 
THE " CREMORNE "—BUCKINGHAM BALLS — ASSIGNATION HOUSES — PERSONALS— THE MID- 
NIGHT MISSION — REFORMATORY ESTABLISHMENTS — ABORTIONISTS — THE WICKEDEST 
WOMAN IN NEW YORK. 

Prostitution is an appalling evil in New York. One 
can scarcely look in any direction without seeing- some 
evidence of it. Street walkers parade the most prom- 
inent thoroughfares, dance houses and low concert 
halls flaunt their gaudy signs in public, and houses 
of ill-fame are conducted with a boldness unequalled 
anywhere in the world. The evil is verv o-reat, but it 
is far from assuming the proportions that some well- 
meaning, but misinformed, persons have assigned it. 
Some years ago Bishop Simpson, of the Methodist 
Church, made the starding assertion, at a public meet- 
ing, that the prosdtutes of New York were as numer- 
ous as the members of the Methodist Church in that 
city. This drew from the Superintendent of Police a 
siatement, in which he showed that while the evil was 
undeniably very great, it was not so bad as the Bishop 
had reported it. The truth is that there are about 600 
houses of prostitution and about 90 assignadon houses 



PROFESSIONAL PROSTITUTES. 475 

in New York. The number of women known to the 
poHce as professional prostitutes is about 5000, in 
which estimate are included several hundred waiter 
girls in the concert saloons. The Census of 1880 
returned. the female population of New York as 615,- 
815. This would give one professional prostitute for 
123 females of all ages in the entire city. These fig- 
ures are horrible enough to contemplate, but they are 
not so bad as the statement referred to above. Of 
the number of women who resort to prostitution as a 
means of obtaining money, or from other motives, and 
who yet manage to retain positions of respectability 
in society, of course no estimate can be made. They 
are, unfortunately, very numerous, and are said, by per- 
sons in position to speak with some degree of accu- 
racy, to equal the professionals in numbers. 

These things are sad to contemplate, and disagree- 
able to write about. The whole subject is unsavory; 
but no picture of New York would be complete did it 
not include an account of this terrible feature of city 
life, which meets the visitor at almost every turn ; and 
it is believed that some good may be accomplished by 
stripping the subject of all its romance, and presenting 
it to the reader in its true and hideous colors. 

The professional women of New York represent 
every grade of their wretched life, from the belle of 
the fashionable house of ill-fame to the slowly dying 
inmate of the Water street brothel. They begin their 
careers with the hope that they will always remain in 
the class into which they enter, but find, when it is too 
late, that they must go steadily down into the depths, 



476 NEW YORK. 

closing their lives with a horrible death and a pauper's 
grave. 

The first-class houses of New York are conducted 
with more or less secrecy. It is the object of the pro- 
prietress to remain unknown to the police as long as 
possible, but she finds at last that this is impracticable. 
The sharp-eyed patrolmen soon discover suspicious 
signs about the house, and watch it until their suspicions 
are verified, when the establishment is recorded at 
police headquarters as a house of ill-fame, and placed 
under the surveillance of the police. These houses 
are few in number, the entire city containing, accord- 
ing to police reports, not more than fifty. Large rents 
are paid for them, and they are generally hired fur- 
nished. They are located in some quiet, respectable 
portion of the city, and outwardly appear to be simply 
private dwellings. It often happens that the neighbors 
are in ignorance of the true character of the house, 
long after it is well known to the police. It is hinted 
that even Fifth avenue is not free from the taint. The 
ho.uses are magnificently furnished, and every attrac- 
tion is held out to lure desirable visitors to them. The 
proprietress is a woman of respectable appearance, 
and passes as a married woman, some man generally 
living with her, and passing as her husband. This 
enables her, in case of trouble with the authorities, to 
show a legal protector and insist upon her claim to be 
a married woman. 

The inmates are women in the first flush of their 
charms. They are handsome, well dressed, generally 
refined in manner, and conduct themselves with out- 
ward propriety ; rude and boisterous conduct, im- 



THE ARISTOCRACY OF SHAME. 477 

proper language, and indecent behavior are forbidden 
in the parlors of the house, and a casual visitor pass- 
ing through the public rooms of the place would see 
nothing out of the usual way. 

It is difficult to learn the causes which induce these 
women to adopt a life of shame. No reliance what- 
ever can be placed upon the stories they tell of them- 
selves. It cannot be doubted, however, that they are 
generally of respectable origin, and some of them are 
otherwise fitted to adorn the best circles of society. 
Some are young women who have been led astray by 
men who have failed to keep their promises to them, 
and have drifted into sin to hide their shame ; others 
are wives who have left, or have been deserted by, 
their husbands ; others are widows who have been 
left without any other means of support; others still 
have deliberately chosen the life in the hope of escap- 
ing poverty, or to gratify their love of money and dress ; 
and others again appear to be influenced by motives 
of pure licentiousness. Whatever the cause of their 
adoption of such a life, it is evident that they have 
seen better days. They are still fresh and attractive, 
and for a while pursue their gilded career of sin and 
shame, hoping that they may be fortunate enough to 
retain their places in the aristocracy of vice. The 
proprietress will have no others than attractive women 
in her house ; and as soon as the inmates begin to 
show signs of the wretched life they lead, as soon as 
sickness falls upon them, or they lose their beauty and 
freshness, she sends them away, and fills their places 
with more attractive women. She has no difficulty in 
doing this, for she has her agents on the watch for 



478 NEW YORK. 

them all the time, and unfortunately new women are 
always soliciting admission to such places. Besides 
this, the proprietress knows that her patrons soon 
erow tired of seeing the same women in her estab- 
lishment. She must make frequent changes to satisfy 
them, and she has no scruples about thrusting a woman 
out of her doors to begin the descent of the ladder of 
shame. Therefore, about one or two years is the 
average term of the stay of a woman in a fashionable 
house. A few manage to remain longer, but the 
number is so small as to constitute scarcely an excep- 
tion to the general rule. As long as her "boarders" 
remain with her, the proprietress treats them fairly 
enough, apart from the fact that she manages to get 
out of them all the money she can. The women earn 
large amounts of money, but a considerable portion 
of this goes for board and other expenses in the house, 
and their extravagant habits and tastes exhaust the 
rest. They save nothing, and if taken sick must go 
to the Charity Hospital for treatment. Their dream 
of saving money lasts but a short time, and they leave 
the fashionable houses penniless. 

The visitors to these houses are men of means. No 
one without a full pocket could afford such indulgence. 
Visitors are expected to spend considerable money for 
wine, which is always furnished by the proprietress at 
the most exorbitant prices, and at a profit of about 200 
per cent. A large part of her revenue is derived from 
such sales, and she looks sharply after this branch of her 
business. The shamelessness with which men of stand- 
ing and prominence, many of whom are husbands and 
fathers of families, resort to these houses, and display 



VISITORS TO FIRST-CLASS HOUSES. 479 

themselves in the parlors is astounding-. Indeed, the 
keeper of one of the most fashionable houses boasts 
that married men are her principal customers. Some- 
times the visitor desires that his visit shall not be 
known. For such persons there are private rooms, 
where they are sure of seeing no one but the propri- 
etress and the woman for whom their visit is intended. 
The fashionable houses are largely patronized by stran- 
gers visiting New York ; these, thinking themselves 
unknown in the great city, care little for privacy, and 
boldly show themselves in the general parlors. The 
proportion of married and middle-aged men among 
them is very great. You will find among them law- 
yers, physicians, judges of courts, members of Con- 
gress, and even ministers of the gospel from all parts 
of the country. This may seem a startling assertion, 
but the police authorities will confirm it. If the secrets 
of these places as regards their visitors could be made 
public, there would be a terrible trouble in many happy 
families throughout the land, as well as in the Metrop- 
olis. Men who at home are models of propriety 
seem to lose all sense of restraint when they come to 
New York. These same gentlemen would be mer- 
ciless towards any female member of their families 
who should display a similar laxity. 

To return to the women: — The inmates of the first- 
class houses rarely remain in them for more than two 
years. Their shameful and dissipated lives render 
them by this time unfit for companionship with their 
aristocratic associates. The proprietress quickly de- 
tects this, and remorselessly orders them from her 
house. She knows the fate that awaits them; but her 



480 NEW YORK. 

only care is to keep her house full of fresh and attrac- 
tive women. 

Having quitted the fashionable house, the wretched 
woman has no resource but to enter a second-class 
house, and thus go down one grade lower in vice. The 
difference between this place and the house she has 
left is very great. The proprietress is cruel and ex- 
acting, and boldly robs her boarders whenever occa- 
sion offers. The visitors are more numerous, but are 
a rougher and coarser set than those who patronized 
her in the first stage of her career. Money is less 
plentiful, her life is harder in every way, and she seeks 
relief from the reflections that will crowd upon her in 
drink, and perhaps to drunkenness adds the vice of 
opium eating. Her health breaks fast. What was left 
of her beauty when she entered the house soon fades, 
and in two or three years she becomes unfit to remain 
even in a second-class house. She is turned into the 
street by the proprietress, who generally robs her of 
her money and jewelry, and sometimes even of her 
clothing, save what she has on at the time. The 
wretches who keep these houses do not hesitate to 
detain a woman's trunk, or other effects, upon some 
trumped-up charge of arrears of debt, when they have 
no longer any use for her. The poor creature has no 
redress, and is obliged to submit in silence to any 
wrong practised upon her. 

The woman whose career opened so brilliantly is 
now a confirmed prostitute and drunkard, bloated, 
sickly, and perhaps diseased. She is without hope, 
and there is nothing left to her but to sink still lower. 
Yet it is only four or five years, perhaps less, since 



THE GREENE STREET BAGNIOS. 481 

she entered the fashionable up-town mansion, beauti- 
ful and attractive in all the freshness of her charms, 
and little dreamini^ of the fate in store for her. She 
is not an exception to the rule, however. She has but 
followed the usual road, met the inevitable doom of 
her class. 

From the second-class house the lost woman passes 
into one of the bagnios of Greene, Worster, or some 
similar street. Here her lot is infinitely more wretched. 
Her companions are the vilest of her class, and the 
visitors are thieves, rougfhs, and men who cannot Qrain 
admittance into places such as she has left. She finds 
herself a slave to the keeper of the house, who is often 
a burly ruffian, and even more brutal than a woman 
would be in the same position. She is robbed of her 
earnings, is beaten, and often falls into the hands of 
the police. She becomes familiar with the station- 
house, the Tombs, and Blackwell's Island, and what- 
ever of womanly feeling remained to her is crushed 
out of her. She is a brute simply. She remains in 
Greene street and similar places a year or two — hu- 
man nature cannot bear up longer against such a life 
—and is then unfit to remain even there. Would you 
seek her after this, you will find her in the terrible 
dens, sailors' dance houses, and living hells of Water 
street, or some kindred locality. She is a mass of 
disease, utterly vile and repulsive, steadily dying from 
her bodily ailments, and the effects of rum and gin. 
She has reached the bottom of the ladder, and can go 
no lower. She knows it, and in a sort of dumbly des- 
perate way is glad it is so. Life is such a daily torture 
to her, hope has so entirely left her, that death only 
31 



482 NEW YORK. 

offers her any relief. She is really a living corpse. The 
end soon comes. Some die from the effects of their 
terrible lives, and, ah ! such fearful deaths ; others are 
killed or fatally injured in the drunken brawls which 
so often occur in this locality; and others still seek an 
end of their miseries in the dark waters of the East 
River. 

I draw no exaggerated picture of the gradual but 
inevitable descent of a fallen woman in New York. 
Every detail is true to life. Seven years is the aver- 
age life of an abandoned woman in the great city. 
She may begin her career with all the eclat possible, 
she may queen it by virtue of her beauty and charms 
in some fashionable house, at the beginning, and may 
even outlast the average term at such places ; it mat- 
ters not ; her doom is certain. The time will come 
when she must leave the aristocracy of shame, must 
take the second step in her terrible career. Seven 
years for the majority of these women, and then death 
in its most horrible form. Some may, and do, antici- 
pate the end of it by suicide ; few ever escape from it. 
"The wages of sin is death." Some cherish the hope 
that after a few years of pleasure they will reform ; 
but, alas, they find it impossible to do so. A few, a 
very few, do escape through the aid extended to them 
by the Midnight Mission, but they are so few that they 
but serve to emphasize the hopelessness of the effort. 
The doom of the fallen woman is sure. "The wages 
of sin is cieath." Once entered upon a career of 
shame, the whole world sets its face against her. 
Even the men who associated with her in her palmy 
days would turn a deaf ear to her appeals for aid 



LURING YOUNG GIRLS TO RUIN. 483 

after she has gone down into the depths. I would to 
God that the women who are about to enter upon 
this terrible, life could walk through the purlieus of 
Water street and witness the sights that I have seen 
there. I would they could see the awful, rum-bloated, 
disease-scalled, despairing faces that look out from 
the bagnios of" that terrible neighborhood, and then 
realize that, however brilliant the opening of their ca- 
reer may be, this must be the end of it. It is idle for 
them to hope to escape the terrible doom of the fallen 
woman. "The wages of sin is death." Would any 
one know what sort of a death ? Let her come to 
New York and see. 

Many of the women of the town never pass through 
the various gradations of vice that I have described. 
Many never see the inside of a fashionable house of 
ill-fame, but begin lower down the scale, as inmates 
of second-class houses, as waiter girls in concert sa- 
loons, as inmates of dance houses, or as street walkers. 
These meet their Inevitable doom all the quicker, but 
not the less surely. 

The city is full of people whose object is to lead 
young girls into lives of shame. Some of these are 
men, but the majority are women. They watch the 
hotels, and lure respectable girls away on various pre- 
texts. Every inducement is held out to working girls 
and women to adopt the vile trade, and many fall will- 
inpf victims. Hundreds of these women are from New 
England. They come to the city seeking work, and 
are sometimes successful. Often, however, they can 
find nothing to do, and, when poverty and want stare 
them in the face, they listen to the voice of the 



484 NEW YORK. 

tempter, become street walkers, waiters in concert 
halls, or inmates of houses of ill-fame. Sometimes, 
while they are in the first days of their success, they 
will write home that they are pursuing- honest callings 
in the city, and earning reputable livings, and will 
even send money home to their deluded parents. 
After a while the letters cease — the writers have 
gone down into the depths; they are lost. Said one 
whose duties often brought him in contact with women 
of this class : " It is strange to see how these women 
cherish the memory of their homes even in the midst 
of their shame. They will speak of the pleasant home, 
of the old father or mother, in accents full of despair. 
Often these memories will cause them to burst into 
uncontrollable weeping. If I try to take advantage of 
this moment of tenderness, and urge them to make 
an effort to reform, I am met with but one answer, — 
' It is too late.' " The keepers of the bagnios of the 
city use every means to lure young women into their 
power. Not long since a girl, who had managed to 
escape from a Greene street brothel, told the follow- 
ing story to the magistrate at the Jefferson Market 
Police Court. It reveals the system practised in such 
places. " I watched the advertisements in the papers 
to see something that would suit me. I learned that 
a Mrs. Myers, of Greene street, wanted two young 
girls to do light chamber work, and I hastened there, 
with a friend, in quest of a job. We were received 
by Mrs. Myers, who sat down and began to explain 
to us the nature of the duties we were expected to 
perform. It was an awful proposition, your Honor. 
She kept a house of ill- fame. We fled. I was very 



A FORTUNATE ESCAPE. 485 

much discouraged. Not so my friend, who told me 
there was another lady down the street, who was 
really in want of girls to help her. We went to her 
house. It was another of the same sort ; but after I 
got in there my own clothes were taken av/ay from 
me, and the lady furnished me with some sort of silk, 
trimmed with fur, and tried to make me behave an(i 
act like the other girls in her establishment. I 
remained there from Saturday to Wednesday night, 
because I could not get away. I had no clothes to 
wear in the streets, even if I should succeed in reach- 
ing them, which was impossible, and the woman who 
kept the house was angry with me, and treated me 
brutally because I would not comply with her wishes. 
I and another young girl tried to escape by climbing 
over the fence of the back yard. The other girl got 
away, but I was discovered by the barkeeper, who 
drove me back into the house, with curses. On 
Wednesday evening I was made to sit at the window, 
and call a man, who was passing, into the house. He 
turned out to be a detective, and arrested me, and 
brought me here." 

The girl's story proving to be true, the m.agistrate 
restored her to her friends, and caused the arrest of 
the keeper of the house. 

The police are often called upon by the relatives of 
abandoned women to assist them in finding them, and 
rescuing them from their lives of shame. Sometimes, 
in the cases ti very young girls, these efforts are suc- 
cessful, and the poor creature gladly goes with her 
friends. Others again refuse to leave their wretched 
haunts ; they prefer to lead their lives of infamy. 



486 NEW YORK. 

One night a young man called at the " Buckingham 
Palace," a dance-house, in West Twenty-seventh street, 
and inquired for his sister Dora, whom, he had learned, 
was in that place. The young lady came out, while 
he was speaking, in company with a well-dressed man. 
Instead of complying with her brother's entreaties, 
she entered a carriage, with her escort, and drove to 
the Thirtieth street Police Station to seek release from 
her brother's importunities. The brother followed, 
told to the sergeant the story of his sister's shame, 
and asked him to keep her there until he could sum- 
mon their father. The sergeant complied with this 
request, and the father soon arrived. He was a re- 
spectable master carpenter. He confirmed his son's 
statement, and appealed to his daughter to go home 
with him. She answered him flippantly, and the indig- 
nant father cursed her for her sin, and would have 
attacked the man with her had not the officers pre- 
vented him. The woman was locked up for the night 
in the station house, and brought before the Jefferson 
Market Police Court the next morning. The father 
urged that she should be sent to some reformatory 
establishment, but the woman met him with the state- 
ment that she was twenty-three years old, beyond 
legal control, and therefore entitled to choose her own 
mode of life. Her plea was valid, and the magistrate 
was unwillingly compelled to discharge her from cus- 
tody, though he endeavored to persuade her to re- 
turn to her family. She then left the court room, was 
joined by several flashily dressed women, and depart- 
ed in high spirits, completely ignoring her relatives. 

One of the worst classes of abandoned women con- 



THE STREET WALKERS. 487 

sists of the street walkers. On Broadway, Sixth ave- 
nue, and the Bowery these women arc very numerous. 
They are generally well dressed, and as a rule are 
young-. They pursue certain regular routes, rarely 
pausing unless they " pick up " a companion, when 
they dart off with him into a side street. On Broad- 
way the police do not allow them to stop and accost 
men, but they manage to do so. The neighborhoods 
of the hotels and the places of amusement are their 
principal "cruising grounds," and their victims are 
mainly strangers to the city. Many of them have 
some regular employment during the day, and ply 
their wretched trade at nio^ht to increase their "-ains. 
They accompany their victims to the "bed-houses," 
which are conveniently at hand, and if an opportunity 
occurs will rob him. They frequent the dance halls 
and concert saloons, in fact, every place to which they 
can obtain admission, and leave no means untried to 
lure men into their company. As a rule, they are 
vicious in the extreme, they drink heavily, and are 
fearfully diseased. 

Many of the street walkers are in the regular em- 
ploy of the "panel houses," which abound in the city. 
These houses are kept by men, who are among the 
most desperate roughs in New York. The woman is 
either the mistress of one of these men, or in his pay. 
The method pursued is as follows: — The street walker 
secures her victim on the street, or at some concert 
hall or dance house. He is generally a stranger, and 
ignorant of the localities of the city. She takes him 
to her room, which is an apartment provided with a 
partition in which there is a sliding door or panel. 



488 NEW YORK. 

The confederate of the woman is concealed behind 
this partition, and, at a favorable moment, slides back 
the panel, enters the room, and rifles the clothing of 
the victim of the money and valuables contained in it. 
If discovered, the panel thief endeavors to disable the 
victim. The latter is no match for his assailant, and is 
from the first at a disadvantage. The thief is desper- 
ate, and is generally armed. He does not hesitate at 
anything, and, if necessary, will murder the victim, the 
woman assisting^ him in the fearful work. Then the 
body is left until near morning, when it is placed in a 
wagon engaged by the thief, carried to the river, and 
thrown into the water. Generally the robbery is ac- 
complished without the necessity of resorting to vio- 
lence. The victim either puts up with his loss in 
silence, or reports it to the police. The records at 
Police Headquarters contain reports of numerous rob- 
beries of this kind. Yet the evil eoes on. Stranofers 
in the city incur a terrible risk in accompanying street 
walkers and women whom they meet at concert and 
dance halls to their homes. In nine cases out of ten, 
robbery is certain. Murder is too often the result of 
such an adventure. Truly, Solomon was wise indeed, 
when he wrote : — " He hath taken a bag of money 
with him. . . With her much fair speech she caused him 
to yield, with the flattering of her lips she forced him. . , 
He goeth after her straightway, as an ox goeth to the 
slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks; 
till a dart strike through his liver; as a bird hasteth to 
the snare, and knoweth not it is for his life. . . Her 
house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers 
of death." 



THE CONCERT SALOONS. 489 

The concert saloons are among the worst features 
of the social evil. They flourish along- certain parts 
of Broadway, Sixth avenue, and the Bowery, and are 
simply so many places where the devil's work is done. 
They provide a low order of music, and the service of 
the place is rendered by young women, many of whom 
are dressed in tights and all sorts of fantasdc costumes, 
the chief object of which is to display the figure as 
much as possible. The liquors furnished are of the 
vilest description. The girls are hideous and unat- 
tractive, and are foul-mouthed and bloated. The vis- 
itors are principally young men, and even boys, though 
older men, and even gray heads, are sometimes seen 
among them. The women are prostitutes of the low- 
est order. They encourage the visitors to drink, 
shamelessly violate every rule of propriety, and are 
always in readiness to rob a visitor who is too far 
gone in liquor to protect himself. These places are 
frequented by ruffians, whose only object is robbery. 
They keep a watch over the visitors ; and when one 
of the latter, overcome with liquor, staggers out of 
the place, follow him, lure him into a back street, rob 
him, and, if necessary to their own safety, murder him. 
Oftentimes they lure their helpless victims to the river 
front, and their rob and kill him, and throw his body 
into the water, where it is found by the harbor police. 

The dance halls are often handsome places, but all 
are simply the rendezvous of street walkers, and men 
who come to seek their company. The principal es- 
tablishments of this kind are the Buckingham Palace, 
the Cremorne Garden, and the Haymarket. At the 
Cremorne all are admitted free, but at the others an 



490 NEW YORK. 

admission fee is charged for men. The " Buckingham " 
is the handsomest dance house in the city. We enter 
through a lobby into a bar-room, back of which lies 
the dance hall. This is a gaudily decorated apart- 
ment, two stories in height, with a gallery running 
around it on a level with the second story. Tables 
and chairs are scattered about the sides of the first 
floor, but the central space is kept clear for dancing. 
The galleries are also provided with tables and chairs. 
At the back is a dimly- lighted space, fitted up like a 
garden, where those who desire it may sit and drink, 
and at the side are a shooting-gallery and a restaurant. 
The place is always well filled. The women present 
are the inmates of the neighboring houses of ill-fame 
and street walkers. Each one is a prostitute, and each 
is intent upon luring some man into her clutches. The 
men are mostly very young, but on " gala nights," 
and during the " balls " which are given here in the 
winter, almost every class of society is represented by 
the male visitors. An orchestra in the gallery oppo- 
site the entrance provides the music, and dancing is 
constantly going on on the floor of this hall. Men ' 

and women are constantly passing in and out ; drink- 
ing is going on in every part of the hall ; and the air 
is heavy with tobacco smoke. In spite of its brilliancy 
and splendor, the place is but one of the numerous 
gateways to hell with which New York abounds. Men 
meet abandoned women here, and accompany them to 
their homes, risking disease, robbery, and even death, 
with a recklessness that is appalling. Young men of 
respectable families come here nightly, and spend 
hours in company with the abandoned women who 



492 NEW YORK. 

frequent the place. These same young gentlemen 
would shrink with a fastidious horror from even a few 
moments' conversation with the cooks and housemaids 
of their own homes. Yet here they find pleasure in asso- 
ciation with women equally as ignorant and unrefined, 
and in every way unworthy to compare with " Biddy," 
who is honest and virtuous, whatever her other faults 
may be. 

The lowest dance houses are situated on the river 
fronts and in the adjoining streets, and are largely fre- 
quented by sailors. The women at these places are 
generally residents of the house, whose sleeping rooms 
are above the dance hall. They are in the last stages 
of prostitution, and are fearful to behold. 

A great deal of immorality is carried on in the city 
of which the police cannot take cognizance, and of 
which it is impossible to obtain statistics. This grade 
of vice is confined largely to persons of nominal 
respectability. The columns of certain city journals 
contain numerous personals by which appointments 
are made, and communications exchanored between 
persons engaged in intrigues. These people support 
the numerous assignation houses which abound in the 
city. About ninety of these houses, of all grades, are 
known to the police, but there are others which are 
conducted so privately that the police have no knowl- 
edore of them. It is said that some of the most fash- 
ionable are owned and furnished by men of nominal 
respectability. They put a woman in charge of the 
house, and share the large receipts with her. 

Great efforts are made by benevolent people to 
lessen the amount of vice with which the Metropolis 



THE MIDNIGHT MISSION. - 493 

is cursed. The Midnight Mission, in Greene street, 
is the most successful of the various means that have 
been adopted to rescue fallen women from their 
wretched lives. It is open to every fallen woman who 
will seek refuge in it, and its invitations are scattered 
among this class by its agents. The women are treated 
with kindness, and encouraged to reform. They come 
voluntarily, and leave when they wish to do so. They 
are always welcomed; however often they may wander 
back into sin, the Mission never closes its doors upon 
them. "Until seventy times seven," is its rule. In a 
single year, as many as 282 women sought refuge in 
the Mission. Of this number, "^^ were found good 
situations where they could earn an honest living, and 
26 were restored to their relatives and friends. Year 
after year the Mission continues its good work, res- 
cuing a few from sin and shame. The other reforma- 
tory institutions are, "The House of the Good Shep- 
herd," the " House of Mercy," and the " New York 
Magdalen and Benevolent Society." They are all 
correctional establishments, and more or less force is 
employed in the treatment of those who are refractory. 
The majority of their inmates are sent to them by the 
police courts. 

One of the greatest evils of the city is the existence 
of a class of men and women who make their living 
by practising abortion upon women who have been 
betrayed, and seek to remove the consequences of 
their sin. These abortionists are well known to the 
police, who spare no effort to break up the infamous 
business. They continue to flourish, however, in spite 
of the exertions of the authorities. They advertise 



494 * NEW YORK. 

boldly in such city journals as will admit their adver- 
tisements, and reap large profits from the sale of drugs 
and the performance of operations upon pregnant 
women. Their calling is illegal, and the statute book 
denounces grave penalties against them. To bring 
on premature confinement, which shall result in the 
death of a child, is made by the law of New York 
manslaughter in the second degree. In spite of this, 
however, infanticide flourishes in New York, and every 
year the city journals contain numerous accounts of 
the death of women at the hands of professional abor- 
tionists. They are arrested and punished whenever 
a clear case can be made out against them ; but others 
spring up to take their places, and the infamous busi- 
ness continues to thrive. Some of the more cautious 
practitioners will not undertake a premature delivery 
of a woman, but content themselves with receiving 
her, and carrying her safely through her confinement. 
They require that she shall be "backed" by some 
responsible man. The child, when born, is sent to 
some foundling asylum, or given to persons willing to 
adopt it. Often the practitioner places it in the hands 
of some person to care for it, and, where the parents 
are of good position in society, and possessed of wealth, 
holds it as a means of extorting money from them. 
Large sums are wrung from the parents in this way, in 
order to avoid an exposure, and men and women have 
been driven to despair and suicide by the wretches 
in whose power they have placed themselves. 

One of the most notorious women of this class was 

the late Madame R- . A large part of her income 

was derived from the sale of drugs warranted to bring 



THE WICKEDEST WOMAN IN NEW YORK. 495 

on miscarriages. She amassed a large fortune by her 
business, built a magnificent house on Fifth avenue, 
and lived in royal style. She would never commit an 
abortion outright, but would safely deliver her patients, 
take care of the children born in her house, and use 
them as the means of extorting money from the parents. 
Her patients were invariably women of position in so- 
ciety, in the city and other parts of the country, and 
she would receive no one into her house unless 
"backed" by a man of known wealth. At length her 
wicked ways threw her into the hands of the police. 
The evidence against her was overwhelming, and, to 
escape the just punishment of her crimes, the wretched 
woman committed suicide. 



496 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

JAY GOULD. 

EARLY LIFE OF THE GREAT FINANCIER — PERSONAL APPEARANCE — KNOWLEDGE OF LAW — 
ENTERS THE ERIE ROAD— BLACK FRIDAY — HOW GOULD CAME OUT OF IT — A SHREWD 
GAME IN "eRIE" — HIS WEALTH — ATTACKED IN WALL STREET — HIS METHOD OF OPER- 
ATING. 

There is not a village or town in the United States 
in which the name of Jay Gould is not as farhiliar as a 
household word. He is a native of New York State, 
and is in the neighborhood of tifty years of age. He 
is a small, puny man, scarcely larger than a boy of 
sixteen, with black beard and hair, black eyes, and a 
timid, shrinking manner. He is secretive in every- 
thing, and has the rare gift of keeping his own coun- 
sel under all circumstances. He is well educated, and 
is the most daring: and resolute financier in the United 
States. It is said that his knowledge of law is won- 
derful for an amateur, and that he can draw the most 
difficult legal paper with the ease and skill of an old 
practitioner. He has few friends, and is suspicious of 
all his associates, who return his distrust with equal 
heartiness. 

Mr. Gould began his business life in his native State, 
after which he enofaged in an unsuccessful venture in 
Pennsylvania. He then went to Vermont, where he 
was made Superintendent of the Rutland Railroad, 
which he soon placed upon a paying basis. Its heaviest 
stockholder was a Mr. Miller, whose daughter Mr. 
Gould married in 1861. Mr. Miller was also largely 



JAY GOULD, 



497 



interested in tlie Erie Railroad, and tiirough his inHu- 
ence Mr. Gould, some years afterwards, was elected 
its President. His career in this capacity, and his con- 
nection with the late James Fisk, Jr., are too well known 
to make it necessary to relate them here. 

He is credited, together with Fisk, with having 
brought about the famous "Black Friday" corner in 
the gold market, and it is asserted in Wall street that 




when the bubble bursted, he escaped loss by quiedy 
selling out his millions of gold to his partner, Fisk, and 
consigning that individual to almost ruin. When he 
w^as driven out of the Erie Railroad, the public was 
astonished by the announcement that he had been 
compelled to make restitution to the Erie Company 
of $6,000,000 worth of property. With characteristic 
shrewdness he managed to make even this humiliation 



498 NEW YORK. 

a matter of gain. The transaction was necessarily 
kept secret until it was concluded ; but meanwhile 
Gould, knowing- that the road's enrichment to so large 
an amount would send the stock up, bought all there 
was in the market. When the news of the restitution 
was m-ade public, Erie stock rose rapidly, and Gould 
sold all he had at an enormous profit. He is said to 
have cleared ^6,000,000 on the transaction. 

Mr. Gould's wealth is very great, and is estimated 
anywhere from ^10,000,000 to $50,000,000, but no one 
knows the true amount. His railroad interests are 
tremendous, and he is practically the owner of the 
telegraph system of the United States. He resides 
in a handsome mansion on Fifth avenue. 

He is cordially hated by Wall street operators, 
many of whom have suffered severely from his re- 
morseless combinations. In such matters he spares 
neither friend nor foe. A few years ago a party of 
Wall street men seized him near the Stock Exchange, 
and after handling him very roughly, threw him into 
a neighboring area. He saved himself from further 
harm by instant flight. 

Mr, Gould rarely fails in his undertakings, and con- 
ducts them in a characteristic manner. They say in 
Wall street, that when he appears freely and frequently 
in the street, the brokers feel safe; but when he is 
missing for a day or two. Wall street begins to trem- 
ble and looks out for squalls. When he is about to 
put some great scheme in operation, he retires to his 
Fifth avenue house, and remains there until it is over, 
communicating all the while with his agents in the 
market by telegraph. 



THE FIRST DIVISION. 



499 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE NATIONAL GUARD. 

ruv. MRST mVIS>ON-,TS OKGAN,ZATION-„OW AKMED-APPROPRIATIONS BV the CITV- 
PRIVATE liXPENSES-THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF - EFFICIENCY OK THE TROOPS-PAST 
SERVICES OF THE FORCE-OVERAWING THE MOB-PUTTING DOWN RIOTS-A REINFORCr 
MENT TO THE POLICE-DISCIPLINE-THE ARMORIES- THE SEVENTH REGIMENT ARMORY- 
PARADES. 

The military organizations of the City of New York 
constitute the First Division of the National Guard of 
the State of New York, and are jusdy regarded with 




SIXTY-NINTH REGIMENT ARMORY. 



pride by the citizens of the MetropoHs. The division 
numbers about 6,500 men, and consists of four bri- 
gades, which are divided into nine regiments of in- 



500 NEW YORK. 

fantry. In addition to these are one regiment and 
a troop of cavalry, and four batteries of artillery. The 
arms of the force, ammunition, and some other neces- 
sities, are provided by the United States. The regi- 
ments select their own uniform and equipments, and 
these are purchased by the members at their own ex- 
pense. The city makes an appropriation of $500 a 
year for each regiment ; but other expenses, such as 
the cost of parades, the hire of bands, and the fitting- 
up of armories are borne by the regiments. 

The entire force is under the command of a Major- 
General, whose headquarters are at 155 Mercer street. 
The division is always at the orders of the Governor 
of the State, who is ex-offi.cio Commander-in-chief of 
the National Guard of New York, and may be called 
into active service at his discretion. 

The men are well-drilled, and constitute an efficient 
force, which can be relied upon in time of need. The 
majority of them are veteran soldiers, and saw service 
during the late Civil War. They have repeatedly proved 
their efficiency in the riots which they have been called 
upon to quell. They have promptly and bravely re- 
sponded to every call upon them, preventing a terrible 
and disastrous riot when the banks suspended specie 
payments in 1837 ; putting down the Astor Place riot 
in 1849: preventing a serious riot at the time of the 
organization of the Metropolitan Police force ; rescu- 
ing the city from the mob in the Draft riots in 1863 ; 
checking the Orange riots in 1871; and overawing 
the mob in the Railroad riots in 1877. The men are 
not holiday soldiers in any sense, but are trained troops; 
ready at any moment to play their part in the preser- 



REGIMENTAL ARMORIES. 501 

vation of order in the Metropolis. They constitute a 
strong and effective reinforcement to the police, and 
the rougher element of the city know that they are no 
match for such a force as this, as they have learned 
from experience that the troops 7vill fue when the 
word is given. The police, on their part, are en- 
couraged by the knowledge that behind them stand 
tlie National Guard ready to support them when the 
task of preserving order is too great for them. The 
citizens appreciate this, .and contribute liberally to the 
support of the military. 

The discipline is very rigid. The men are not vol- 
unteers, but are regularly enlisted in the service of the 
State, and are liable to severe punishment for any in- 
fraction of discipline. Delinquent members, sentenced 
by court-martial to imprisonment, are confined in Lud- 
low street jail. 

Each regiment has an armory, in which are kept its 
arms and valuable property. The armory is in charge 
of an armorer, who takes care of the arms, and keeps 
them in good order. A drill room constitutes the 
principal hall of the armory, and in some of these 
buildings reading rooms, a library, committee, and 
company rooms are provided. The regiments take a 
pride in decorating and furnishing their armories as 
handsomely as their means will permit. The Sixty- 
ninth Regiment armory and the armory of the Sev- 
enth Regiment are the handsomest in the city. The 
latter building is a notable structure, and occupies an 
entire block, bounded by Fourth and Lexington ave- 
nues and Sixty-sixth and Sixty-seventh streets. It is 
built of brick, with granite trimmings, and has the 



502 



NEW YORK. 



streng-th of a fortress and the elegance and comfort 
of a club-house. It cost over ^300,000, and the inte- 
rior was decorated and furnished at the expense of the 
regiment. The regimental drill room is 300 by 200 
feet in size, and besides this there are ten company- 
drill rooms, an officers' room, a veterans' room, a field 
and staff room, a gymnasium, and six squad drill 
rooms. 








^^- i^^' 




SEVENTH REGIMENT ARMORY. 



The parades of the division are among the sights 
of the city, and draw great crowds to witness them. 
The martial bearing of the troops, their splendid uni- 
forms and equipments, and the perfect discipline which 
marks every movement, elicit hearty applause from the 
citizens who line the entire route of the march. 



THE RICHEST M/\N IN NEW YORK. 



503 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

WILLIAM II. VANDERBILT. 

THE RICHEST MAN IN NEW YORK — EARLY LIFE — liRCOMES A FARMER — ENTERS THE RAILROAD 
WORLD — BECOMES VICE-PRESIDENT OF THE NEW YORK CENTRAL SYSTEM — SUCCEEDS THK 
OLD COMMODORE — THE VANDERBILT PALACES — LOVE OF FAST HORSES. 

The richest man in New York is William H. Van- 
derbilt, Esq. He is the oldest son of the late Com- 
modore Vanderbilt, and was born at New Brunswick, 




New Jersey, on the 8th of May, 1821. He obtained 
his early education at the' Columbia College Grammar 
School, and at the age of eighteen began his business 
career as a clerk in the banking house of Drew, Rob- 



504 NEW YORK. 

inson & Co., of Wall street. Here he remained two 
years, and gave such marked evidences of business 
capacity, that his employers began to contemplate 
taking him into partnership when he should have 
reached his majority. His health gave way, however, 
before this plan could be carried out, and he left Wall 
street, and took a farm on Staten Island. Devoting 
himself to his new pursuit with characteristic vigor, he 
brought the farm up in the course of a few years, and 
made it pay handsomely. He then undertook the 
receivership of the badly crippled Staten Island Rail- 
road, and soon brought that out of its difficulties, and 
became its president. In 1864 he became vice-pres- 
ident of the Harlem Railroad, and soon after of the 
Hudson River Railroad. Upon the consolidation of 
the Hudson River and New York Central Railroads 
in 1869, he was made vice-president and executive 
officer of the organization. Since then his career has 
been a part of the railway history of the country. 
During the life of his father, " Billy," as the old Com- 
modore affectionately called him, was his confidant and 
executive officer, and through him the far-reaching 
plans of the "railroad king" were carried into suc- 
cessful execution. The united efforts of father and 
son more than trebled the value of the great railway 
lines in their hands, and little by little the ownership 
of the vast combination passed into their possession. 
"Billy" displayed the highest execudve ability, and 
from the first took his place among the great railway 
managers of the country. At the death of Commo- 
dore Vanderbilt, he succeeded his father in the presi- 
dency of the various roads under his control, and is 



THE VANDERBILT MANSIONS. 505 

now vice-president of a number of other roads in the 
West and South. He also became, by his father's 
will, the heir to the great bulk of the vast estate left 
by the Commodore. He is said to have more ready 
money than any man in America, and his railroads 
are a source of enormous income to him. 

Mr. Vanderbilt was married in 1841 to Miss Kissam, 
of New York, and has a large family. He resides in 
an elegant mansion in Fifth avenue, and is now erect- 
ing two of the finest dwelling houses in the city, on 
Fifth avenue, between Fifty-first and Fifty-second 
streets. Mr. Vanderbilt will reside at the corner of 
Fifty-first street, and the adjoining house is for his 
married daughters. Two of his sons, Cornelius and 
William K. Vanderbilt, are also erecting splendid 
mansions higher up the avenue. 

Mr. Vanderbilt is still devoted to his farm, and takes 
pride in regarding himself as a practical farmer. He 
has inherited his father's love for fast horses, and pos- 
sesses some of the best trotters in the country. He 
is a good driver and is constantly on the road in fine 
weather. 



506 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

CRIME IN NEW YORK. 

PROFESSIONAL CRIMINALS — THEIR NUMBERS — THE THIEVES — SUPERINTENDENT WALLING's DE- 
SCRIPTION OF THEM — THE THIEF LANGUAGE — GRADES OF THIEVES — BURGLARS — BANK ROB- 
BERS — SNEAK THIEVES— CONFIDENCE MEN — HOW THEY OPERATE — THE PICKPOCKETS — 
WHERE THEY COME FROM— THE ROGUES* GALLERY — THE RIVER THIEVES — DARING CRIMES 
— THE FENCES — HOW STOLEN GOODS ARE DISPOSED OF — TRICKS OF THE FENCES — THE 
ROUGHS — BLACKMAILERS — HOW THEY FLEECE THEIR VICTIMS. 

Strange as it may seem, men and women of certain 
grades of intellect and temperament deliberately de- 
vote themselves to lives of crime. These constitute 
the " professional criminals," who make up such a ter- 
rible class in the population of every great city. In 
New York. this class is undoubtedly large, but not so 
large as many people assert. That it is active and 
dangerous, the police records of the city afford ample 
testimony. It is very hard to obtain any reliable sta- 
tistics respecting the professional votaries of crime, 
but it would seem, after careful investigation, that New 
York contains about 3000 of them. These consist 
of thieves, burglars, river thieves, fences, and pick- 
pockets. In addition to these we may include under 
the head of professional criminals, the following : — 
Women of ill-fame, about 500O ; keepers of gambling 
houses, and of policy and lottery offices, about 600, 
making in all nearly 9000 professional law-breakers, 
or about one professional criminal in every 136 in- 
habitants in a population of a million and a quarter. 
This is a startling statement ; but unhappily it is true. 



PROFESSIONAL CRIMINALS. 507 

The population of New York is more cosmopolitan 
than that of any city in the Union, and the majority 
of the people are poor. The struggle for existence 
is a hard one, and offers every inducement to crime. 
The political system, Vv^hich is based upon plunder, 
presents the spectacle of well known offenders going- 
unpunished by justice ; and is therefore so much en- 
couragement to the ignorant and degraded to enter 
upon lives of dishonesty. The professionals are not 
all ignorant men or women, however. Among them 
may be found many whose abilities, if properly di- 
rected, would win for them positions of honor and 
usefulness. There seems to be a fascination in crime 
to these people, and they deliberately enter upon it. 

The principal form which crime assumes in the Me- 
tropolis is robbery. The professionals do not deliber- 
ately engage in murder or the graver crimes ; though 
they do not hesitate to commit them if necessary to 
their success or safety. They prefer to pursue their 
vocation without taking life ; and murder, arson, rape, 
and capital crimes are, therefore, not more common, 
in proportion to the populadon, in the Metropolis than 
in other cities. Robbery, however, is a science here, 
and it is of it in its various forms that this chapter will 
treat. 

The professional criminals of New York constitute 
a disdnct community ; they are known to each other, 
and seldom make any effort to associate with people 
of respectability. They infest certain secdons of the 
city where they can easily and rapidly communicate 
with each other, and can hide in safety from the police. 



508 NEW YORK. 

Some time ago, Police Superintendent Walling thus 
described the thieves of New York : — 

" New York thieves are of two sorts — those who 
steal only when they are tempted by want, or when an 
unusual opportunity for successful thieving is thrown 
in their way, and those who make a regular business 
of stealing, A professional thief ranks among his fel- 
lows according to his ability. Many professional 
thieves are burglars. They drink to excess, and com- 
mit so many blunders that they are easily detected by 
the police. They gamble a great deal. When suc- 
cessful they quarrel over their booty, and often betray 
each other. A smart thief seldom drinks, and never 
allows himself to get under the influence of liquor. 
He takes care to keep himself in the best physical 
trim ; and is always ready for a long run when pur- 
sued, or a desperate struggle when cornered. He 
must always have his wits about him, A thief of this 
class makes a successful bank robber, forger, or con- 
fidence swindler. Professional thieves seldom have 
any home. Many of them find temporary shelter in 
a dull season in houses of ill-repute. They associate 
with, and are often married to, disrespectable women, 
many of whom are also thieves. The smartest thieves 
do not have homes, for the reason that they dare not 
remain long in one place for fear of arrest. During 
the summer New York thieves are to be found at all 
the watering-places and seaside resorts. Later in the 
season they attend the country fairs and agricultural 
shows, and come back to the city at the beginning of 
the winter. They are fond of political meetings in 



THE THIEF LANGUAGE. 509 

Jersey City and other places near New York, but do 
not appear at meetings in this city." 

Being asked whether there were any places in the 
city where thieves were educated to their business, 
Mr. Walling replied: — "No; it would be impossible 
for such places to exist without being discovered. 
Thieves educate themselves, or get their knowledge 
by associating with other thieves more experienced 
than themselves. Those people who believe in the 
existence of schools where boys are taught the art of 
picking pockets, have got their belief from works of 
fiction like Dickens's 'Oliver Twist.' The bucket shops 
and brothels of the city where thieves congregate, 
are the only places which can be called schools of 
crime." 

For purposes of communicating with each other, 
the professional thieves have a language, or argot, 
which is also common to their brethren in England. 
It is generally known as " Patter," and is said to be 
of Gypsey origin. A few phrases, taken at random 
from it, will give the reader an idea of it : Abraham, 
to sham, to pretend sickness ; AiUiunn cove, a married 
man ; Autuimi cacklcr, a married woman ; Bag of 
nails, everything in confusion ; Balluni ranciim, a ball 
where all the damsels are thieves and prostitutes ; 
Barbar^i coast. Water street ; Bill of sale, a widow's 
weeds ; Booked, arrested ; Bingo wort, a drunken 
woman ; Brown stone, beer ; Cain and Abel, a table ; 
Cap-yoiir-lucky, to run away ; City College, the Tombs; 
Cofisolation, assassination ; Doxie, a girl ; Dratving, 
pocket picking ; Diu'ia, file ; Fa77iily man, a receiver 
of stolen goods ; Free, to steal ; Gilt, a crowbar ; Gilt- 



510 NEW YORK. 

diibbei', a hotel thief ; Madge, private places ; Ned, a 
ten dollar gold piece ; Olive, the moon ; Plate of meat, 
a. street of a city ; Po7icess, a woman who supports a 
man by her prostitution ; Star the glaze, break the 
glass. 

Experienced thieves are thoroughly familiar with 
this language, and can speak to each other intelligi- 
bly, while a bystander is in total ignorance of their 
meaning. 

The professional thieves are divided into various 
classes, the members of which confine themselves 
strictly to their particular line of work. They are 
classed by the police, and by themselves, as follows : 
Burglars, Bank Sneaks, Damper Sneaks, Safe Blow- 
ers, Safe Bursters, Sneak Thieves, Confidence Men, 
and Pickpockets. A burglar will rarely attempt the 
part of a sneak thief, and a pickpocket will seldom 
undertake a burglary. 

The burglar stands at the head of the professional 
class, and is looked up to by its members with admi- 
ration and respect. He disdains the title of " thief," 
and boasts that his operations require brains, and 
nerve to an extraordinary degree. The safe blowers 
and safe bursters are also classed by the police as 
burglars, and are acknowledged by the craft as confed- 
erates. They number about 325 known professionals. 
The banks and the lar<^e business houses are their 
"game." They disdain smaller operations. When a 
plan to rob a bank has been formed, the burglar proper 
calls the safe burster, and sometimes the safe blower, 
to his aid. One man often prepares the way by open- 
ing a small account with the bank, and drawing out 



HOW lUNKS ARE ROBRED. 511 

his deposits in small amounts. He visits the place at 
different hours of the day, learns the habits of th(- 
bank officers and clerks, and makes careful observa- 
tions of the building and the safes in which the money 
is kept. Frequently a room in the basement of the 
bank building, or in an adjoining building, is hired 
and occupied by a confederate. When alfis ready, a 
hole is cut through the floor into the bank room, or,'in 
rare cases, an opening is made through the walls from 
an adjoining building. Once in the bank room, the 
services of the safe blower or burster are called into 
action. The former takes charge of the operation 
when the safe is to be blown open by gunpowder. 
He drills holes in the door of the safe by the lock, 
and fills them with charges of gunpowder, which are 
ignited by a fuse. The safe is carefully wrapped in 
blankets to smother the noise of the explosion, and 
the windows of the room are lowered about an inch 
from the top, to prevent the breaking of the glass by 
the concussion of the air. The explosion destroys 
the lock, but makes litde nois(\ and the door of the 
safe is easily opened. Where it is desirable not to 
resort to an explosion, the safe burster makes the 
safe fast to the floor by strong iron clamps, in order 
that It may bear the desired amount of pressure. He 
then drills holes in the door, into which he fits jack- 
screws, worked by levers. These screws exert a tre- 
mendous force, and soon burst the safe open. Some- 
times, when small safes are to be forced open, they 
use only a jimmy and a hammer, wrapping the ham- 
mer with cloth to deaden the sound of the blows. 
The safe once opened, the contents are at the mercy 



512 NEW YORK. 

of the burglars. These never attack a safe without 
having some idea of the booty to h& secured, and the 
amount of risk to be run. Saturday night is gener- 
ally chosen for such operations. If the work cannot 
be finished in time to allow the burglars to escape 
before sunrise on Sunday, they continue it until suc- 
cessful, and boldly carry off their plunder in broad 
daylight. Where it can be done, the burglars prefer 
to enter the bank by means of false keys. One of 
them will frequent the bank and secure wax impres- 
sions of the necessary keys, and from these false keys 
are manufactured. Private houses are often robbed 
by means of such keys. 

The bank sneak is simply a bond robber. He con- 
fines his operations to stealing United States and other 
bonds, preferring coupon to registered bonds, as they 
can be more easily disposed of. He frequents a bank 
for a long period, and patiently observes the places 
where the bonds and securities are kept. This he 
manages to do without suspicion, and when all is 
ripe for the robbery, he boldly enters the bank, makes 
his way unobserved to the safe, snatches a package 
of bonds, adding to it a bundle of notes, if possible, 
and escapes. If the plunder consists of coupon bonds, 
it is easily disposed of; but registered bonds require 
more careful handling. Generally, when the bank 
offers a reward for their recovery, the thief enters 
into communication with the detective appointed to 
work up the case, and compromises with the bank by 
restoring a part of the plunder on condition that he is 
allowed to keep the rest and escape punishment. 

The damper sneak is also a bond robber, but con- 



SNEAK THIEVES. 513 

fines his depredations to brokers' offices. Wall street 
is his field of operations, and has suffered heavily from 
him. He enters a broker's office, under pretext of 
waiting for a friend who has business with the house, 
or some similar plea, and watches his opportunity to 
o^et at the safe, which is generally left open during bus- 
iness hours. Seizing a favorable moment, he passes 
behind the counter unobserved, snatches whatever he 
can lay his hands on, and leaves the office. In the 
majority of instances he gets away with his plunder. 
He trusts everything to chance, and steals anything 
he can carry off. 

The sneak thieves are the lowest in the list of pro- 
fessional robbers. They confine their operations prin- 
cipally to private dwellings and retail stores. They 
are in constant danger of detection and arrest, and 
are more often secured by the police than the other 
classes we have mentioned. The dinner hour, which 
in winter is after dark, is their favorite time for enter- 
ing houses. They gain admittance by open doors or 
windows, or by false keys, and take anything within 
their reach. A favorite practice of sneak thieves is to 
call at houses advertised for rent, and ask to be shown 
the rooms. Another plan is to visit the offices of phy- 
sicians and other professional men, and to steal arti- 
cles of value in the waiting-rooms while they are left 
alone. The majority of those who steal from stores 
are women, who take articles from the counters while 
the clerks are busily engaged in laying out goods for 
their inspection. The practice of shoplifting has be- 
come so common, that many of the leading stores 
keep special detectives to watch the customers. 

33 



514 NEW YORK. 

Confidence men make use of the credulity of country 
people and strangers in the city. A favorite plan is 
to watch the registers of the hotels, and get the names 
and addresses of the sr^iests. The method is as fol- 
lows: — Mr. Smith comes to New York, puts up at 
some prominent hotel, and after dinner saunters out 
for a stroll. A confidence man, who has been on the 
watch for his appearance, meets him some blocks 
away from the hotel, and, rushing up to him, seizes his 
hand, and exclaims delightedly, " Why, Mr. Smith, 
how glad I am to see you. When did you arrive ? 
How did you leave them all in Smithville?" Mr. 
Smith is taken by surprise at being recognized in the 
great city, and if he is at all credulous, the confidence 
man has no trouble in making him believe that they 
have met before. The swindler joins him in his 
stroll, after a few moments of conversation confides 
to him that he has drawn a large prize in a lottery, 
and invites him to accompany him to the lottery office, 
and sec him receive the money. On the way they 
visit a saloon and enjoy a friendly drink together. An- 
other stranger now drops in, and is introduced to Mr. 
Smith by the swindler. The new comer draws the 
swindler aside and exchanges a few words with him, 
whereupon the latter tells Smith that he owes the 
stranger a small sum of money, and has unfortunately 
left his pocket-book at his office. He asks his unsus- 
pecting victim to lend him the amount until they reach 
the lottery office, when he will return it. Smith pro- 
duces the money, which is handed to the new comer, 
who then takes his departure, and the friends resume 
their stroll toward the lottery office. On the way the 



PICKPOCKETS AND THEIR WAYS. 515 

swindler manages to elude his victim, who seeks him 
in vain, and goes back to his hotel a sadder and a 
wiser man. Strange as it may seem, this is one of the 
most successful tricks played in the city. It is often 
varied, but is never attempted upon -a resident of the 
Metropolis, 

The pickpockets of New York are very numerous. 
The term pickpocket is regarded by the police as in- 
cluding not only those who confine their efforts to 
picking pockets and stealing satchels, travelling bags, 
and valises, but also gradations of crime which ap- 
proach the higher degrees of larceny from the person, 
and highway robbery. The members of this class of 
the thieving fraternity are well known to the police, 
and the detectives are kept busy watching them. Their 
likenesses are contained in the " Rogues' Gallery " at 
police headquarters, and the authorities know the 
thieves well, as their careers embrace in every instance 
a long record of crime. Instances are not rare in which 
a whole family, from the oldest to the youngest, is 
equally deep in crime, the little ones having been 
thoroughly and systematically educated by their par- 
ents in the different branches of stealing, becrinnine 
with the simple picking of the pocket of some unwary 
person, and finally becoming able to commit the most 
daring burglaries. The pickpockets are largely re- 
cruited from the newsboy class. These boys grow up 
in such constant association with criminals, that their 
moral sense becomes so stunted that they step readily 
into lives of crime. They are utterly cut off from 
any saving or refining influence, and their lives throw 
them into the companionship of thieves and aban- 



516 NEW YORK. 

doned women, whose influence over them is all-pow- 
erful. 

Pickpockets do not as frequently travel in gangs 
now as in former years. With the exception of the 
old and well-known professionals, most of this class 
of thieving is done by young men of i6 or i8 years, 
who rob men whom they find intoxicated of the money 
or valuables they may happen to have about them. It 
is difficult to keep the track of the residences of pro- 
fessional pickpockets, as they change them very often, 
and also give a different name every time they are 
arrested, so that they are best known by their aliases. 
The police endeavor to have all known professional 
thieves constantly under surveillance, but the task is 
a difficult one. In addition to constantly changing 
their places of abode, they are in and out of the city 
frequently. Several saloons and localities, however, 
have become notorious as resorts of pickpockets. A 
saloon and hotel near the Bowery and Canal street, a 
saloon near the junction of the Bowery and Fourth 
street, and one near the corner of Mercer and Hous- 
ton streets, are well known to the police as resorts of 
thieves. 

Most of the pickpockets now come, as we have said, 
from among the bootblacks and newsboys, who do a 
thriving business in the winter time, when overcoats 
are worn with outside pockets for small change. A 
newsboy, when offering to sell a paper, and while hold- 
ing it before his customer's face, will skilfully extract 
from the change pocket in his customer's overcoat all 
that may be there. Great dexterity is sometimes ac- 
quired in this manner. 



THE rogues' galleky. 517 

The ferry boats, the street cars, and the platforms 
and trains of the elevated railroads are favorite fields 
for the operations of pickpockets. The neighborhood 
of the Grand Central Depot is also busily worked by 
them. One or more thieves will work his way into a 
crowd of passengers, jostle them about, and rob them 
with the utmost ease. Some are so bold as to make 
scarcely any concealment of their work. 

All professional pickpockets that are arrested, are 
photographed, and their pictures are placed in the 
" Rogues' Gallery " at police headquarters. It some- 
times happens, though this is very rare, that one re- 
forms and endeavors to gain an honest livelihood. In 
that case his picture is taken out of the gallery and 
privately kept by the Superintendent of Police or the 
Chief of the Detective Force, and if the reformation 
proves to be complete and thorough, the picture is 
either destroyed or given up to the original. The de- 
tectives claim that their efforts to arrest and convict 
pickpockets are not properly seconded by the police 
magistrates. In case a professional pickpocket who 
is well known to the police is arrested late at night 
on suspicion, he has to be taken to the police court by 
ten o'clock the next morning. It often happens that 
there are complaints in the detective office against 
this very man, and a full description given by some 
robbed person, which points out this one as the thief 
wanted. The police magistrates, however, insist that 
the evidence against the prisoner shall be immediately 
forthcoming ; and, as it is frequently the case that the 
complainant may be out of town, or for some other 



518 NEW YORK. 

reason cannot be immediately found, the prisoner is 
discharged. 

One of the most dangerous and skilful classes of 
pickpockets consists of women and young girls. These 
operatewith great success in dry-goods stores, churches, 
and other crowded places where ladies congregate. 

Another dangerous class of criminals are the river 
thieves, or " River Pirates," as they are sometimes 
termed. There are about fifty of this class known to 
the police as professionals, and these are among the 
most daring and successful robbers in the city. The 
long line of the North River front of the island is well 
lighted, and as it is largely occupied by the piers of 
the great railroad and steamship lines, it is strongly 
guarded by private watchmen, as well as by the city 
police. The East River front is neither so well lighted 
nor so strongly guarded, and, therefore, constitutes 
the principal scene of the operations of the river 
thieves, though the North River front is by no means 
exempt from their depredations. 

The river thieves work hard for their plunder. 
They operate in gangs of three or four, each of which 
has a large, swift rowboat, equipped with bags and 
tarpaulins. They row silently and with muffled oars 
along the wharves, darting under the piers occasion- 
ally to escape observation, until they reach the vessel, 
or vessels, they have marked during the day for rob- 
bery. Between midnight and morning is the time 
chosen for their work. Every one on board the vessel 
is asleep, even the man on the watch. Approaching 
the vessel silently, they clamber on board by means 
of her chains, or by a rope left hanging over the side. 




RIVER THIEVES. 



520 NEW YORK. 

Moving- cautiously about her decks, they secure what- 
ever tliey can lay their hands on, fill their bags, and 
lower them into the boat. Though they will often 
take original packages unbroken, they prefer to force 
them open, and rifle them of their contents, which are 
transferred to the bags. Merchandise thus removed 
from the original package cannot be identified if the 
thieves are arrested with it in their possession, and 
robbery cannot be proved against them. They go 
well armed, and, if discovered on board a ship, do not 
hesitate to shed blood in their efforts to escape. In 
spite of the vigilance of the harbor police, the chances 
are largely in favor of the thieves. They choose their 
own time and place of operation, and conduct their 
movements so secretly, and with such system, that they 
are generally apt to escape. If pressed too hard by the 
police boat, in their efforts to get away, they at once 
open fire upon it, and sharp skirmishes often occur 
between the officers of the law ancl the thieves. Dark 
and stormy, and especially foggy, nights are the favor- 
ite seasons for the operations of the river thieves. 
They know every foot of the harbor on both sides of 
the city, and are able to row for long distances under 
the piers. The North and East River fronts of the 
city, and the wharves of Brooklyn and Jersey City, and 
even vessels lying at anchor in the harbor, are busily 
worked by them. They rarely attempt to rob a 
steamship, as the watch is stricter on those vessels 
than on sailing ships, but several of the great Euro- 
pean lines have suffered from their depredations. 
Sometimes they find a schooner in charge of a single 
man, or laid up for the winter. The man in charge 



RIVER PIRATES. 521 

is quickly overcome, and the vessel is literally stripped 
of everything that can be carried away from her, and 
is left a perfect wreck. Sometimes a desperate gang 
will boldly attack a vessel lying in the harbor, and 
endeavor to overpower her crew. They can be 
driven off only after a hard hand-to-hand fight. 

One of the worst gangs that ever infested the 
waters of New York was led by Mike Shannahan. 
Under his guidance the pirates would sail up and 
down the East River in the schooner " Sunny Shower," 
in search of molasses. When unable to obtain it 
legitimately, they would steal it from the different 
piers. When a sufficient quantity was accumulated, 
they would sail to a retired nook in Long Island 
Sound, and there manufacture whiskey in large quan- 
tities. The vessel was supplied with everything neces- 
sary for the business, and, unmolested by the authori- 
ties, the gang soon made a large sum of money. One 
of their boldest exploits was the robbery of the bark 
Saone. The vessel lay at the upper quarantine station, 
and was loaded with coffee. Owing to the prevalence 
of yellow fever on board during the voyage, the cargo 
was ordered to be discharofed in liorhters. Pullinor 
alongside in broad day, the pirates hailed the mate, 
and asked to be allowed to come on board, as they 
were thirsty. They found the mate was alone, and at 
once boarded the ship. Before he was aware of their 
intentions, the mate was seized, placed below the 
hatches, and tied to the ringbolts on the main deck. 
During all this time the Staten Island ferry boats, and 
other vessels, were passing and repassing continually. 
Taking off the hatches, the thieves transferred to their 



522 NEW YORK. 

boat two hundred bao^s of coffee, and, biddino; the mate 
good day, left the vessel. They conveyed their goods 
to the Floating Bethel for Seamen, moored, as now, 
in the East River, and concealed their plunder in an 
unused hatch until they were able to remove it safely. 

The life of a river thief is full of hardship and danger. 
Apart from his encounters with the police and the 
crews of vessels, he has to battle with the elements 
and endure an -extraordinary amount of exposure and 
fatigue. Constant night-work on the water, exposed 
to wind and storm, snow and ice, will break down the 
strongest constitution, and the river thief soon passes 
from the scene of his exploits to the hospital or alms- 
house, if, indeed, he is fortunate enough to escape the 
penitentiary. 

Though the professional thieves are so successful 
in securing plunder, they would be at a loss to dispose 
of it to advantage were it not for the "Fences" with 
whom they deal. The " Fence " is simply a dealer in 
stolen eoods, knowinof them to be such. He is re- 
garded by the police as the most important person in 
the business of stealing, as without his assistance the 
thieves could not realize upon their plunder. The 
" Fence " is generally the keeper of a pawnshop or 
junk store in a part of the city inhabited by the poorer 
classes. His acquaintance among the professional 
thieves is extensive. When one thief wishes to com- 
municate with another whose place of abode is not 
known to him, he goes at once to the " Fence " to get 
the desired address, or to leave a message. All plun- 
der obtained by thieves, such as jewelry, watches, gold 
and silver ware, costly house ornaments, and articles 



THE FENCES. 523 

of clothing, for which the thieves have no use, and 
which they cannot keep in their possession without 
great danger, is brought to the " Fence " to be dis- 
posed of. The disposal of stolen property is often 
attended with as much risk as the procuring of it, and 
the " Fence " always demands his full share of the 
profits for his part in the transaction. The crafty re- 
ceiver knows very well that the thieves place them- 
selves in his power when they come to him to dispose 
of their plunder, and he does not hesitate to drive 
hard bargains with the less desperate of his customers. 
A thief frequently gets no more than enough to pay 
his week's board for stealing a valuable watch. When- 
ever a burglary is planned by thieves a "Fence" is 
always consulted, for without some means of hastily 
removing and disposing of the goods no profit could 
be gained by the undertaking. It is usual for the 
" Fence " to provide a wagon, watch the building in 
which the burglars are at work, and, at a prearranged 
signal, to drive to the place and carry off the booty. 
If a clothing house or fur store has been robbed, the 
articles are at once stripped of their wrappings and 
so altered in appearance that the owners would find 
it difficult to identify their property. The " Fences " 
keep melting pots in their houses, and articles of gold 
or silver, including the cases of watches in many in- 
stances, are converted into bars of metal, which can 
be easily disposed of without detection. Precious 
stones are removed from their settings, and the gold 
is either melted, or the marks by which it may be 
identified are removed by burnishing. The marks on 
dry-goods and clothing are removed by chemicals or 



524 NEW YORK. 

fine scissors, and even the trimmings and sometimes 
the shapes of garments are altered. Every fence 
store has numerous places in which stolen goods may 
be safely hidden, and every means is used to baffle 
the vigilance of the police. Every fence store in the 
city is known to the authorities, and is under surveil- 
lance, but in spite of this, so great is the skill of the 
" Fences " that it is a rare thing that one of them is 
ever brought to justice. The thieves are not their 
only customers ; dishonest clerks, porters, and servant 
girls steal from their employers, and dispose of their 
plunder to the "Fences." 

The roughs constitute another class of professional 
criminals. The rough is simply a brutal man, who 
seems lost to all the better feelings of humanity, and 
who engages in violence and crime simply for the 
pleasure it affords him. He is not necessarily a thief, 
though he often does steal for a living. As a general 
rule he lives upon the earnings of some woman of ill- 
fame, and though he beats and maltreats her himself, 
protects her from injury at the hands of others of his 
class. His favorite amusement is to attend picnics 
and celebrations in the suburbs or on board steamers, 
and to break up the enjoyment of the occasion by beat- 
ing and robbing the pleasure seekers. At such times 
gangs of roughs work together, and women and chil- 
dren, as well as men, are the objects of their brutal 
violence. The rough is both a bully and a coward. 
He does not hesitate to commit murder or to outrage 
a woman, but he does this only when he can act with- 
out jeopardy to his own safety. He will not engage in 
a fair fight, and slinks away from real danger. He is 



BLACKMAILERS AND THEIR VICTIMS. 525 

often the proprietor of a panel-house, a pohcy-office, 
or a rat- or dog-pit, and his associates are his fellow 
roughs, thieves, and prostitutes. He is a politician by- 
nature, and does the dirty work of the "statesmen" 
who rule in municipal politics. This gives him the 
only importance he enjoys, and also often saves him 
from punishment for his crimes. As soon as his mis- 
deeds bring him into trouble, his political friends exert 
themselves to save him from punishment, and are gen- 
erally successful. 

Blackmailers are also classed by the police among 
the professional criminals. The object of these people 
is to live at the expense of others more fortunate than 
themselves, and to acquire the means of doing so by 
extorting money from them by threats. The black- 
mailer, though sometimes a man, is generally a woman. 
The well-known weakness of mankind inclines the 
community to listen with considerable readiness to 
charges brought by a woman, and men knowing this 
are often afraid to offer any resistance to the black- 
mailer. They fear that the charges will be believed, 
however they may deny them, and know that at all 
events they will produce a scandal ; so they pay the 
sums demanded of them in the hope of hushing the 
matter up. Instead of accomplishing this, they simply 
place themselves in the power of the wretch, whose 
demands for money increase with every compliance of 
the victim. Innocent men have been driven to despair 
and suicide by these wretches. A firm stand at the 
first, with the assistance of the police, would end all 
the trouble at the start ; but let a victim once yield, 
and he is certain to be bled as lone as he will stand it. 



526 NEW YORK. 

Young men about to make rich marriages are the fa- 
vorite "game" of the female blackmailer, who gener- 
ally has a thief or a rough as her " backer." She 
knows, and indeed so does the young man, that any 
story about a man will find believers. She goes to 
the intended bridegroom, threatens to denounce him 
to X-^x?, fiancee as her destroyer, and demands money as 
the price of her silence. Although the man knows he 
is innocent, he dreads the scandal, fears it will break 
off his marriage, and generally yields to the demand 
of the wretch. Should he refuse, the woman boldly 
goes to the young lady, and carries out her threat. 
This is her revenge, and she is too often successful. 

A description of the arts resorted to by blackmail- 
ers to extort money from their victims would fill a 
volume. Their ingenuity and fertility of resource are 
wonderful. They rarely assail women, as they know 
the male relatives of a lady so attacked would bring 
the police upon them. Men are their victims, and 
they rely upon their fears for success. 



THE NATIONAL RIFLE ASSOCIATION. o27 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

CREEDMOOR. 

THE NATIONAL RIFLE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA-THE CREEDMOOR RANGE-THE GROUNDS 
-THE TARGETS-SHOOTING MATCHES-NATIONAL GUARD PRACTICE-AMATURE MARKS- 
MEN. 

The rifle rancre of the National Rifle Association 
of America is located at Creedmoor, a little village 
on Long Island, about thirteen miles from New Yorl:. 
The association owns a tract of eighty-five acres of 
land, enclosed with a substantial fence, and levelled 
and sodded with turf Buildings for the use of the 
association and marksmen are erected within the 
grounds, and at the extreme end of the lawn thirty 
iron targets are placed, giving any desired range from 
50 to 1200 yards. At various intervals are placed a 
"running deer" target, "a tramp" or "moving man" 
target, and a " ringing target," in the last of which a 
bell is rung when the centre is struck. A fine clock- 
faced wind dial is placed at a conspicuous point "to 
show the marksmen the direction of the wind, and 
numerous flags and streamers are planted along the 
range for the same purpose. 

Frequent shooting matches are held at Creedmoor 
during the year, and draw large crowds from New 
York, Brooklyn, and the surrounding country. The 
scene at such times is very brilliant, as the ladies 
attend the matches in large numbers, and take great 



528 



NEW YORK. 



interest in the sport. All the proceeding-s are regu- 
lated by a fixed code of rules, a violation of which 
subjects the offender to a forfeiture of the privileges 




'■> LU.fn 
CREKDMOOR RIFLE RANGE. 



of the range. Each regiment of the National Guard 
of New York and Brooklyn is required to practise at 
the Creedmoor range several times during the year, 



AMATEUR MARKSMEN. 529 

and prizes are awarded die best marksmen on such 
occasions. 

The object of the Rifle Association is to improve 
the skill of its members in the use ot fire-arms. Any 
person of respectability may enjoy the privileges of 
the range upon payment of a small sum and compli- 
ance with the rules. The range is very popular with 
amateurs, and some of the most skilful shooting in 
the country may be witnessed here. 

34 



530 



NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

BAR-ROOMS. 

,NG CAPACITY OF WALL STREET A BAR-ROOMS-THE ALL- 

About 35,000 persons are arrested and brought be- 
fore the Police Courts of the Metropolis every year 
for "drunkenness" and "drunkenness and disorder. 
The Temperance Societies of the city, on the other 
hand, do not number 20,000 members. The contrast 
is startling, but becomes even more so when it is re- 
membered that the persons arrested are only a smal 
oart of the vast number who daily pay tribute to the 
rar-rooms and rum-shops of New York. The Board 
of Excise licenses 2430 places where hquors are sold 
by the single glass or drink, or about one barroom 
to every six hundred inhabitants of the city. These 
represent every grade of drinking estabhshment from 
the magnificent Broadway saloon to the " gin-m 11 o 
he Bowery and Sixth avenue, and the " bucket-shops 
of Baxter street. All these places enjoy a greater or 
kss decree of prosperity, and the proprietors grow 
rch unless they cut short their lives by becoming 
hei'r own best customers. For alcoholic and malt 
iquors sold over the bar, hundreds of thousands o 
dollars are spent daily. It is -""-!'=^. *;' '^*^ 
vicinity of Wall street alone, 7500 drinks are taken 



^32 NEW YORK. 

and 150 bottles of champagne are disposed of every 
day The " bulls and bears " require heavy stimulants 
to keep them up to their exciting work, and their dady 
expenditure for such purposes is about $2500, Prob- 
ably this may account for some of the queer scenes 
to be witnessed in the Stock Exchange, ^ 

The quantity of beer consumed in the city is about 
three times that of whiskey, which is the most common 
of the alcoholic drinks. The true-blooded German 
beer drinker will consume from one to two dozen 
classes of his favorite beverage in twenty-four hours, 
and his American and other imitators follow closely 

in his footsteps, 1 /v . 

The laro-est bar in the world is that at the Astor 
House which transacts the bulk of its business be- 
tween ihe hours of nine a. m., and five p. m. Its receipts 
avera-e about $700 a day, or nearly $220,000 a year, 
Sundays excluded. A popular bar will take in from 
$200 to $400 a day, but the majority of the liquor 
dealers are content with from $30 to $50 a day. Some 
of these places remain open all night, and are filled 
with dram drinkers at all hours. At the first-class es- 
tablishments the liquors sold are of good quality, but 
as the scale is descended the quality of the drinks 
falls off, until the low-class bar-rooms and bucket- 
shops are reached, in which the most poisonous com- 
pounds are sold, under the name of whiskey, brandy, 
gin, rum, etc. The prices charged are high and the 
profits are enormous. 

The rents asked for bar-rooms in prominent localities 
are enormous. There is one man in New York who 
pays $10,000 a year for a small room. His principal 



DRUNKENNESS COMMON IN NEW YORK. 533 

trade is in whiskey, which he sells for twenty cents a 
drink ; for brandy he charges forty cents. 

The bucket-shops are simply rooms located in the 
poorer sections of the city, where liquors of the vilest 
kind are sold by the pint, quart, or gallon. Their cus- 
tomers are the poor and wretched. Only the most 
deadly poisons are sold here. 

It is impossible to estimate the amount of drunken- 
ness in New York. The arrests represent but a very 
small part of it, as thousands of habitual drunkards 
manage to keep out of the hands of the police. Re- 
spectable men patronize the bar-rooms regularly, and 
are constantly seen reeling along the streets. So long 
as they are not helpless, or guilty of disorderly con- 
duct, the police do not molest them. Systematic drink- 
ing, which does not amount to actual intoxication, but 
kills by slow degrees, is very common. Among the 
most liberal patrons of the bar-rooms and beer-saloons 
are young men and even boys, who thoughtlessly be- 
gin here careers that will one day end in sorrow. 

Drunkenness is by no means confined to men. 
Women are largely addicted to it. Out of some 32,000 
arrests in a single year for this cause, nearly 12,000 
were females. In the more wretched quarters of the 
city women drink heavily, and are among the most 
constant customers of the bucket-shops. Even women 
of respectability and good social position are guilty of 
the vice of intemperance. They do not frequent bar- 
rooms, but obtain liquor at the restaurants patronized 
by them, and it is a common sight to see a well-dressed 
woman rise from a restaurant table under the influ- 
ence of'whiskey or brandy. 



534 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

HENRY BERGH. 

THE FRIEND OF THE BRUTE CREATION — ESTABLISHMENT OF THE " SOCIETY FOR THE PRE- 
VENTION OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS " — WORK OF MR. BERGH — HOW HE BECAME A TERROR 
TO TWO-LEGGED BRUTES — A NOBLE RECORD. 

One of the most familiar figures upon the streets 
of New York is that of Henry Bergh, the President 
of the " Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Ani- 
mals," Tall, erect, neatly dressed, and with a counte- 
nance remarkable for its expression of kindness and 
benevolence, he never fails to attract attention as he 
passes slowly along, seemingly preoccupied, but keep- 
ing a keen watch over the dumb creatures along his 
route, to whose protection he has devoted his life. 

Twenty years ago Mr. Bergh came to the conclu- 
sion that his mission in life was to protect dumb ani- 
mals from the cruelties practised upon them. He 
entered upon his self-appointed task with enthusiasm, 
drew others into the good work, and in 1866 suc- 
ceeded in organizing the Society of which he is the 
president. The necessary legislation was carried 
through the Legislature of New York through the ef- 
forts of the society, and its officers were empowered 
to enforce the laws thus enacted. 

Mr. Bergh is fifty-seven years old, and is possessed 
of ample means. He is devoted to the cause he has 
espoused, and serves the Society as its president with- 
out pay. Since he began his work he has created a 




HENRY BERGH. 



536 NEW YORK. 

revolution in the treatment of dumb animals in New 
York. He spends much time on the streets, and his 
officers are scattered throughout the city, on the watch 
for cases of cruelty. A brutal driver, engaged in 
belaboring his horses, is suddenly collared, and look- 
ing up finds himself in the grasp of Henry Bergh, or 
one of his officers, and is made to desist from his 
cruel work. If a wagon is laden too heavily for the 
poor beast attached to it, the driver is made to lighten 
his load, or to take the horse out of the shafts. Sick 
and broken-down or crippled horses are taken from 
their drivers on the streets, and sent to the hospital 
of the Society, where they are properly cared for. Mr. 
Bergh has made himself a terror to the brutal drivers 
who once disgraced the city. Nor does he confine 
his good work to the streets. At the most unex- 
pected times he will make a descent upon some 
wretched stable, where a suffering horse is being kept 
without proper care, and rescue the poor animal. The 
cruel owners of horseflesh have learned that it is use- 
less to resist or to argue with him. He has the law 
at his back, and can summon the police to his assist- 
ance if need be. In aggravated cases he does not 
stop with relieving a tortured animal, but causes the 
arrest and punishment of the perpetrator of the 
cruelty. He is a sworn foe to dog and cock fights, 
and visits his heaviest wrath upon the persons en- 
gaged in such brutalism. 

At first Mr. Bergh met with much opposition and 
considerable ridicule in his efforts to carry on his good 
work, but he has conquered both, and has gained the 
firm support of the best classes of the community. 



A GRAND WORK. 537 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

THE EAST RIVER BRIDGE. 

TRAVEL AND TRAFFIC BETWEEN NEW YORK AND BROOKLYN — THE FERRIES — PLANS FOR A 
BRIDGE— THE WORK BEGUN— THE GREAT BRIDGE— THE TOWERS— THE BRIDGE PROPER 
—THE CENTRAL SPAN— THE CABLES — THE ANCHOEAGKS — THE APPROACHES — PLANS FOR 
TRAVEL ACROSS THE BRIDGE. 

To all intents and purposes New York and Brook- 
lyn form one metropolis, and the day is not far distant 
when the two cities will be united under a single cor- 
porate government. The intercourse between them 
is constant and steadily increasing. About eighty 
millions of people annually cross the East River, and 
for many years the ferries have been utterly inade- 
quate to the demand upon them. The boats are 
always crowded, and when the river is filled with 
ice or shrouded in fog, the passage between the two 
cities is more dangerous than a voyage across the 
Atlantic. 

The necessity for j)roviding a better, safer, and 
more regular communication between the two cities 
led a number of capitalists, some years ago, to con- 
ceive the plan of bridging the East River at a conven- 
ient point, and after much discussion a company was 
formed for that purpose. A charter was obtained 
from the Legislature of the State, and the necessary 
capital subscribed, the cities of New York and Brook- 
lyn each assuming a certain proportion of the cost of 
the undertaking. It was determined that the struct- 
ure should be a suspension bridge, and work was 



DESCRIPTION OF THE BRIDGE. 539 

begun upon it in 1871. At the present time it is 
nearly completed, and will probably be open for 
traffic sometime during the year 1882. When com- 
pleted, it will be one of the grandest triumphs ever 
achieved by engineering skill, and will deservedly 
rank among the wonders of the modern world. Being 
so near completion, we may with propriety describe 
it as it will appear when opened to the public. 

The bridge is swung from two massive towers of 
granite, each of which rests upon a caisson sunk to 
the solid rock, which, on the New York side, is from 
82 to 92, and on the Brooklyn side 45 feet below the 
surface of the water. The towers erected upon this 
foundation are 136 feet in length by 56 feet in width 
at the 'water line, and rise to a height of 238 feet 
above the river at high water. They gradually di- 
minish in size as they ascend, until at the cornice they 
are 1 20 feet in length by 40 feet in width. They are 
constructed of massive masonry, are pierced with two 
archways each, and rise high above the twin cities, form- 
ing the most conspicuous objects in any view of them 
from the East or North Rivers. The New York tower 
Is located on the river shore near the foot of Roose- 
velt street, and the Brooklyn tower is just north of 
the Fulton Ferry house. The New York terminus of 
the bridge is in Chatham street, immediately below 
the City Hall Station of the Elevated Railway, and 
the Brooklyn terminus is in the square bounded by 
Fulton, Prospect, Washington, and Sands streets. 

The bridge is divided into five parts ; the central 
span over the river between the towers, 1595 feet 
long ; a span on each side from the tower to the an- 



540 NEW YORK. 

chorage, 940 feet in length ; and the approaches — 
from the termini to the anchorages — the New York ap- 
proach being 1336 feet long, and the Brooklyn ap- 
proach 836 feet long. The entire structure is 6000 
feet in length, and 85 feet in width, and includes a 
promenade of 13 feet, two railroad tracks and four 
waeon or horse-car tracks. Four immense cables of 
steel wire, each 1 6 inches in diameter, pass from the 
anchorages over the towers, and from these cables are 
suspended the supporting wires which sustain the 
floor of the bridge. The deflection of the cables is 
128 feet. Stays run from the cables and floor of the 
bridge to the towers to prevent the swinging of the 
structure, and enable it to resist the force of the 
heaviest gales. The centre of the floor of the bridge 
is 135 feet above high water. 

At a distance of 940 feet back from the towers are 
placed the anchorages, which are constructed of mas- 
sive masonry in the most substantial manner. After 
passing over the towers each of the four cables enters 
the anchor walls at an elevation of nearly 80 feet 
above high water, and, after passing through the ma- 
sonry for a distance of 20 feet, is firmly secured by 
powerful anchor chains. The cables support the floor 
of the bridge from the towers to the anchorages in 
the same manner as in the central span, this portion 
of the bridge passing over the tops of the houses un- 
derneath. 

The approaches extend from the terminus of the 
bridge on each side to the anchorages, and are sup- 
ported by iron girders and trusses, which rest at short 
intervals on piers of masonry, or iron columns, built 



COST OF THE BRIDGE. 541 

within the blocks crossed and occupied. The streets 
are crossed by stone arches, at an elevation sufficient 
to leave them unobstructed. 

Lines of horse and steam cars will traverse the 
bridge, taking up passengers at the City Hall in New 
York, and setting them down at the City Hall in 
Brooklyn, and vice versa. In this way the passage of 
the river will be made safely and speedily, and the 
passengers will be enabled to enjoy a grand view of 
the two cities and the neiQfhborine waters. 

The total cost of the bridge will be about ^15,000,- 
000. It will undoubtedly prove a profitable enterprise, 
as it will enjoy an enormous patronage, which will in- 
crease from year to year. 



542 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

GAMBLERS AND THEIR WAYS. 

LAWS AGAINST GAMBLING— NUMBER OF GAMBLERS IN THE CITY — THE FARO BANKS — FIRST- 
CLASS ESTABLISHMENTS — SPLENDID VICE — THE BROADWAY HELLS — THE SKIN GAME-^ 
DANGERS OF SUCH PLACES — THE DAY HOUSES — POOL-SELLING — TRICKS OF POOL-SELLERS 
— LOTTERIES — HOW THEY ARE CONDUCTED — POLICY DEALING — AN INSIDE VIEW OF 1HK 
GAMB. 

The statutes of the State of New York denounce 
severe penalties against gambHng and gamblers, yet 
games of chance flourish in the Metropolis to a greater 
extent than in any other place in the United States 
east of the Rocky Mountains. There are said to be 
about 200 gambling houses in New York, and about 
2,500 persons known to the police as professional 
gamblers, dealers in policy, and lottery agents. Of 
late years the laws against gambling have been en- 
forced more rigidly than formerly, and the number of 
professional gamblers has somewhat diminished. Yet 
there are still enough of them to make their business 
a very marked feature of Metropolitan life. 

At the head of the gambling fraternity are the faro 
dealers. This game is too well known to the average 
American to need a description here, and is very 
popular in this country because of its supposed fair- 
ness. There are between 90 and 100 faro banks in 
the city, some of which are political establishments. 
The finest of these are situated on Broadway and in 
the cross streets in the neighborhood of the up-town 
fashionable hotels. Outwardly they appear to be 



FIRST-CLASS GAMBLING HOUSES, 543 

simply private dwellings, but they have a silent, de- 
serted air during the day, giving no signs of family 
life. The blinds are kept down, and only men are 
seen to enter and leave the houses. They are fur- 
nished with great magnificence ; the ceilings are elab- 
orately frescoed, and costly paintings adorn the walls ; 
the softest carpets cover the floors ; the most costly 
furniture fills the apartments ; and superb chandeliers 
hang from the ceilings and shed a brilliant glow 
through the rooms. The servants are colored, and 
the attendance is all that could be desired. Delicious 
suppers are spread nightly for the guests, and rare 
old wines and liquors are at the command of all who 
honor the place with their presence. In the various 
rooms of the house are all the conveniences for gam- 
ing. No one is asked to play, but it is understood 
that all who partake of the proprietor's hospitality are 
expected to make some return by risking something 
at the tables. In the best houses the games are gen- 
erally fair, the proprietor trusting to the chances of 
the game, which are nearly all in favor of the bank 
and the skill of the dealer. Great care is exercised in 
the admission of visitors. The proprietors of these 
places discourage the visits of young men ; they pre- 
fer the company of men of means who have some- 
thing to lose. The guests are prominent men in the 
country, as a rule, lawyers, judges, professional men 
of all kinds, brokers, and the like. Members of Con- 
gress and State Legislatures, and public men gener- 
ally, are among the most constant visitors to the first- 
class gambling houses. Poker is largely played in the 
private rooms of these establishments. 



544 



NEW YORK. 



The second-class houses, or "hells," lie principally 
along Broadway and prominent streets leading from 
It. The visitors to these establishments are chiefly 




SCENE IN A BROA^ 



, JLING HELL. 



strangers in the city, who are lured, or " roped," into 
them by agents of the proprietors. Faro Is the prin- 
cipal game here, but fair games are unknown except 



"SKIN FARO." 545 

among the professionals who frequent the place. The 
" skirf game " is used with the majority of the visitors, 
for the proprietor is determined from the outset to 
fleece them without mercy. In these places everything 
pertaining to gaming is boldly displayed— chips, cards, 
faro boxes, roulette wheels, handsome gaming tables, 
and side-boards containing fine brands of liquors and 
cigars. The entrances to the houses are carefully 
guarded, the doors are secured by heavy bolts and 
bars, and numerous sliding panels afford every oppor- 
tunity for inspecting the visitor before his final admis- 
sion to the rooms. Though roulette is frequendy 
played in these establishments, faro, as we have said, 
IS the principal game. It is simpler than roulette, 
gives a heavy percentage in favor of the bank, and 
"skin faro," the only game played here, offers no 
chance whatever to the player. In "skin faro" the 
dealer can take two cards from the box instead of one, 
whenever he chooses to do so. The box is so ar- 
ranged that the dealer can press on a lever within the 
box in the right-hand corner. When this is pressed 
upon, the mouth of the box is opened, so as to allow 
two cards to slip out at once. The cards being 
"sanded," stick close together, and the player cannot 
perceive that there are two. On the withdrawal of 
the pressure from the lever the mouth of the box is 
closed by a spring, so that only one card can slip out. 
There are some boxes made, called " sanded boxes," 
by the use of which the dealer can press on the end 
of the box and take out two cards, sdll keeping his 
fingers in the natural position, instead of being obliged 
to reach inside of the box in order to press the lever. 

35 



546 NEW YORK. 

No tally is kept of these games, and the player is un- 
able to tell how many cards have been dealt out. 
Should he discover the trick, it is highly dangerous to 
attempt to expose it, as nearly all the persons present 
are in leaeue with the bank, and are united in the 
effort to get possession of the visitor's money. The 
safest plan is to bear the loss and get out of the place 
as soon as possible, as the men present will not hesi- 
tate to provoke a quarrel with or assault a stranger 
who disputes the fairness of the game. A quarrel 
once started, every advantage is taken of the player, 
and his life is not worth a farthing. The safest plan 
of all is to remain away from these hells. The man 
who enters any gaming-house in New York, especially 
a stranger in the city, is a fool, and deserves to lose 
his money. He who ventures into one of these second- 
class houses, risks not only his money, but his life. 
However wise a man may be in his own conceit, how- 
ever he may rank as an oracle in his distant home, 
however brave, resolute, or skilful he may be, he is 
no match for a New York gambler. In nine houses 
out of ten his life is in danger unless he submits quietly 
to be robbed in the most barefaced manner. 

The up-town houses conduct their operations prin- 
cipally by night. The "Day Houses" are down-town 
institutions. Ann street, in the rear of the Herald 
office, and several streets adjacent or convenient to 
Wall street, are the principal neighborhoods infested 
with them. Not long since a single block in Ann 
street contained five of these houses, and the majority, 
though several times raided by the police, still con- 
tinue to flourish. The "Day Houses" occupy the 



DAY GAMTLING HOUSES. 



547 



upper floors of buildings, the street floors of which 
are devoted to legitimate business, and claim to be 
"Club Houses." They are managed by the lowest 
class of gamblers, skin games only are played in 




LOW-CLASS GAMBLING DEN. 



them, and the players have no possible chance of suc- 
cess. Yet they manage to do a profitable business. 
Their visitors are Wall street brokers, clerks, sales- 
men, and men in regular business, who too often risk 
here money that is not their own. 



^48 NEW YORK. 

One of the worst and most demoralizing forms of 
crambling is "pool selling." The pool business is 
conducted more or less openly, notwithstandmg that 
the laws of the State denounce severe punishments 
ao-ainst it The business is conducted by professional 
gamblers, and, though seemingly fair, is a swindle 
throuahout. Pools are sold on horse-races, prize- 
fights? boat-races, swimming matches, political elec- 
tions, and in short on every conceivable contest into 
which the element of chance or doubt enters. The pool 
is supposed to be made up of a fixed number of chances, 
each of which is sold at a certain price. The man- 
aaers charge a percentage or commission on all tick- 
ets sold and do not hesitate to sell as many as there 
are applicants for, even though the legitimate number 
is exceeded by such sales. It is said that on a recent 
presidential election as much as $2,000,000 was staked 
in pools The commission on the sales charged by 
the proprietors of the pool rooms is from three to five 
per cent, and a certain well-known manager is said 
to have realized $60,000 from his commissions on the 
election mentioned above. A favorite trick is to 
receive the money invested in pools, and then spread 
reports which shall discourage the betters, and induce 
them to withdraw their bets. The managers return 
the amounts invested, minus their commission, which 
they retain, and in this way, while seeming to act with 
perfect fairness, fill their coffers at the expense of 

their victims. 

The great evil of " pool" gambling is that it encour- 
ages yotng men and boys to enter into the combina- 
tions, and thus gives them a taste for gambling. The 



POOL GAMBLING. 549 

possibility of winning considerable money by small 
investments fascinates them. During a recent politi- 
cal campaign officers of two of the largest banks in the 
city called upon the Police Commissioners, and stated 
that they suspected that many of their clerks visited 
the pool rooms. They feared that the excitement 
and allurements of gambling might impair the integ- 
rity of these young men, and induce them to appro- 
priate money belonging to the banks. Detectives 
were employed, and the suspicions of the bank offi- 
cers were confirmed. Business men are constantly 
findine that their clerks and salesmen are recjular vis- 
itors to the pool rooms. Messenger boys, bootblacks, 
and others who earn only a few dollars a week, invest 
p all the money they can get hold of in buying pool 

tickets. Men of the highest respectability fall victims 
to the same vice, and the evil goes on increasing. The 
only persons who profit by it are the managers of the 
pools, who do not hesitate to resort to any trick to 
retain the money entrusted to them, and who coolly 
swindle their infatuated dupes out of their invest- 
ments. 

Another vicious form of gambling is the lottery bus- 
iness, closely connected with which is " policy dealing." 
Lotteries are of two kinds — the single number system, 
and the combination system. In the former, as many 
single numbers as there are tickets in the scheme, are 
placed in a wheel, and are drawn out in regular order. 
The first number drawn wins the capital prize, and so 
on until as many numbers are drawn as there are 
prizes. In the combination system, seventy-five num- 
bers are generally placed in the wheel, and from these 



550 NEW YORK. 

a certain set of numbers are drawn, according to the 
provision of the scheme. The chances are much 
greater agahist the ticket-holders in this system than 
in the single number schemes, as, in order for a player 
to win a prize, the various numbers must be drawn in 
the exact order represented on his ticket. 

It is, of course, possible for a lottery to be fairly 
drawn, but it is a well-known fact that in the majority 
of the schemes advertised no drawiuo- of any kind ever 
takes place. A bogus drawing is published, and, though 
prizes are assigned, not a single ticket holder ever re- 
ceives one. Even if the drawing Is fair, the business 
is to be denounced on the ground that it is not only 
illegal, but demoralizing. The purchasers of lottery 
tickets are, as a rule, persons unable to afford the ex- 
penditure — generally the very poor. This species of 
oramblincf has a fascination which holds its votaries 
with a grip of iron. They venture again and again, 
winning nothing, but hoping for better luck next time, 
and so continue until they have lost their all. There 
are hundreds of well-authenticated cases of men and 
women being reduced to beggary, despair, and suicide 
by lottery gambling. 

The managers of the various lottery schemes are 
professional gamblers. They are without principle, 
and do not intend to pay any prizes to ticket-holders. 
They receive their money of their dupes, announce a 
bogus drawing, in which no prizes can be found by 
any ticket-holder, and then coolly ask their victims to 
try their luck again. 

Policy dealing is one degree lower in infamy than 
the lottery business. There are about 400 policy shops 



POLICY PLAYING. 551 

in the city, whose principal customers are negroes, 
sailors, and foreigners. The mazes of poHcy are not 
well known to the general public. Few games are so 
well devised for a sure loss to the player, even when 
honestly played, and the more influential sellers make 
this assurance doubly sure by playing to suit them- 
selves. The game consists in betting on certain num- 
bers, within the range of the lottery schemes, being 
drawn at the noon or night drawing. Seventy-eight 
numbers usually make up the lottery scheme, and the 
policy player can take any three of these numbers and 
bet that they will be drawn, either singly, or in such 
combinations as he may select. The single numbers 
may come out anywhere in the drawing, but the com- 
bination must appear as he writes it in making his bet. 
He pays one dollar for the privilege of betting, and re- 
ceives a written slip containing the number or numbers 
on which he bets. If a single number Is chosen and 
drawn, he wins ^5 ; two numbers constitute a "saddle," 
and if both are drawn the player wins from ^24 to ^^32 ; 
three numbers make a " el^'/' and win from tiso to 
^225; four numbers make a "horse," and win $640. 
A "capital straddle" is a bet that two numbers will be 
among the first three drawn, and wins ^500. The 
player may take any number of "saddles," "gigs," or 
"horses," paying ^i for each bet. 

Now, all this seems very fair ; but the policy man- 
agers are equal to the emergency. As soon as they 
receive the drawings, if they find that too many 
players are likely to win, they change the order of the 
numbers, or the numbers themselves, and thus con- 
demn the players to a total loss. These altered num- 



552 NEW YORK. 

bers are printed on slips at a central office In Vesey 
street, and are distributed to the various policy shops. 
In some cases, after these copies have been sent out, 
it is discovered that the players have even then won 
too much to suit the managers. The copies are im- 
mediately recalled as misprints, and new copies altered 
to suit the managers are distributed. 

All sorts of people engage in this wretched game, 
blacks and whites, rich and poor. The grossest super- 
stitions are indulged in respecting " lucky numbers." 
Such numbers are revealed by dreams, which are in- 
terpreted by " dream-books." To dream of a man is 
" one ;" of a woman " five ; " of both " fifteen," and so 
on. A large publishing house in the lower part of 
the city sells thousands of copies of the " dream-book " 
every year, and among its purchasers are said to be 
many shrewd operators in Wall street. So great is 
the rage for policy playing that men and women be- 
come insane over it. The lunatic asylums contain 
many patients who have been brought there by this 
species of gambling. 



UNDER THE HUDSON RIVER. 553 



CHAPTER XL. 

THE HUDSON RIVER TUNNEL. 

A DARING UNDERTAKING — THE WORK BEGUN — ACCIDENTS— DESCKIPTION OF THE TUNNELS — 
THE PROPOSED DEPOT IN NEW YORK — PROSPECTS Of THE SCHEME. 

One of the most daring undertakings ever attempted 
by modern engineers is now in progress. This is the 
construction of the great tunnel under the Hudson 
River, the object of which is to unite the city of New 
York with Jersey City, and to allow the railways now 
terminating in the latter place to enter the Metropolis. 

This great work is to consist of two tunnels laid 
side by side, each i8 feet wide and i6 feet high. 
Work was begun on the Jersey City side, at the foot 
of Fifteenth street, on the ist of November, 1879. 
The engineers began by sinking a well, 30 feet in di- 
ameter, about 100 feet inland from the river. This 
was securely walled with brickwork and shod with 
wedge-shaped steel at the bottom. When a depth 
of 60 feet had been gained, the solid bottom which 
was found was floored with Roman cement, and the 
work of boring the tunnel under the bed of the river 
was begun, and in spite of several accidents, in one 
of which, on the 2 1 st of July, 1 880, 20 men were killed, 
has been pushed forward steadily. 

The tunnels will start from the foot of Fifteenth 
street, in Jersey City, and when finished will extend 
in a straight line from Pier No. 9, Jersey City, to Pier 



554 



NEW YORK. 



No. 42, at the foot of Morton street, New York. The 
distance between the two points is a Httle over one 
mile, but with the approaches the entire length of the 
tunnels will be about two and a half miles. The tun- 




THE TIINNEL lINDIiK THE HUDSON RIVER. 



nels will adjoin each other, but will be separate and 
distinct pieces of workmanship, uniting, however, under 
the grand arches at the working shaft on either side 
of the river. Each will consist of an immense tube of 
brick-work, two feet thick, laid in Roman cement, im- 



FUTURE OF THE TUNNEL. 5o5 

pervious to water, and capable of withstanding- any 
pressure upon it. A single railroad track will be laid 
in each, and as one of them will be used for trains 
entering, and the other for trains leaving New York, 
collisions can never occur. At the lowest point the 
tracks will be about 60 feet below mean tide. At no 
point will there be less than twenty feet of earth be- 
tween the crown of the tunnels and the bed of the 
river. It is expected that the different railways enter- 
ing Jersey City will use the tunnels and land their 
passengers directly in New York City, the depot be- 
ing probably located somewhere near Broadway and 
Bleecker street. Several years will be required for 
the completion of this great work, but its projectors 
regard its success as assured, and confidently expect 
that it will effect a complete revolution in the system 
of travel between Nev/ York and the New Jersey 
shore. 



556 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XLI. 

FASHIONABLE SHOPPING. 

FASHIONABLE STORES — HANDSOME GOODS — THE FIXED-PRICE SYSTEM — DETECTIVES ON THE 

WATCH — " Stewart's"— ENORMOUS transactions there. 

The fashionable stores of New York are to be 
found principally on Broadway, Fifth and Sixth ave- 
nues, and Fourteenth and Twenty-third streets. They 
embrace dry-goods, millinery, jewelry, fur, clothing, 
shoe, and other stores, and their customers consist 
almost entirely of ladies. They are fitted up elegantly, 
and contain the finest and most varied stocks of goods 
to be found anywhere in the world. In almost all 
these establishments the prices are written in plain, 
figures on the articles, and the clerks are not allowed 
to deviate from them. Elevators connect the various 
floors, and convey purchasers from story to story, thus 
savincr them the fatiofue of climbinof the stairs. Each 
floor is in charge of a manager, who directs customers 
to the counters where the goods they wish to pur- 
chase are sold. No one is urged to buy, but all the 
goods are readily shown to those who desire to exam- 
ine them. Articles purchased are promptly forwarded 
to the residences of buyers, and every effort is made 
to render the task of shopping pleasant. All the while 
the customers are under the constant but unseen sur- 
veillance of detectives, and so perfect is this system 
that shoplifting is rare. 

The principal retail firms possess large and magnif- 



558 NEW YORK. 

icent buildings, which are amonof the chief ornaments 
of the city. The most imposing of these are the 
buildings of A. T. Stewart & Co., the Domestic Sew- 
ing-Machine Company, Arnold, Constable & Co., 
Lord & Taylor, and Tiffany & Co., the last being the 
principal jewelry house of the country. 

Stewart's is the best-known establishment in New 
York. The building is a handsome iron structure five 
stories in height, and occupies an entire block, as has 
been described. The first floor is devoted to the sale 
of miscellaneous goods, each class having its separate 
department. It is generally thronged with buyers, 
and presents a busy scene. It contains loo counters, 
the aggregate length of which is 5000 feet. The sec- 
ond floor is for the sale of ready-made clothing, suits 
for ladies, furs, upholstery, &c. ; the third floor is 
devoted to carpets ; and the other floors to the work 
rooms of the establishment. The number of superin- 
tendents, salesmen, and other persons employed in 
selling and handling goods is about 1 700, The busi- 
ness transacted is enormous, and averages about 
^60,000, and has reached as high as ^87,000, a day. 
The greater part of the sales is made between noon 
and five o'clock p. m., and between those hours the 
vast store is thronged. Everything that caiv be 
desired in the way of dry-goods, millinery, furnishing 
goods, and the like, is to be found here. The sales 
of silk amount to about ^15,000 daily ; dress goods to 
^6000; laces to ^2000; shawls to ^2500; velvets to 
$2000; gloves to ^1000; hosiery to ^600; embroid- 
eries to ^1000; carpets to $5500; and other goods 
in proportion. 



OVERCROWDING OF THE CIT\' 559 



CHAPTER XLII. 

TENEMENT HOUSES. 

DENSITY OP POPULATION IN NEW YORK — NUMBER OF TENEMENT HOUSES AND INHABITANTS 
— CAUSES OF LIVING IN TENEMENT HOUSES — HIGH RENTS — HOMES OF THE WORKING 
CLASS — HOPES FOR THE FUTURE — VARIETIES OF TENEMENT HOUSES — A SPECIMEN — CLOSE 
PACKING — RENTS OF APARTMENTS — EVILS OF THE SYSTEM. 

The immense population of New York, and the 
scarcity of house room in the thickly settled portions 
of the city, have given rise to a system of dwellings 
fortunately unknown in other cities of the country. 
These are known as tenement houses, and are simply 
vast barracks, inhabited by from two to twenty or 
more families. The averas^e number of families to a 
house of this kind is eight. The city contains 20,000 
tenement houses, inhabited by about 500,000 people, 
giving an average of 25 persons to each house. Some 
of these buildings are very small, however, and con- 
tain only two or three families, while the vast rooker- 
ies of the most densely populated wards contain from 
a dozen to twenty-five or thirty families. In one of 
the wards of the city the population is over 290,000 
persons to the square mile, and in several it is nearly 
200,000 to the square mile. About one-half of the 
people of the Metropolis live in these houses, and the 
crowding of such establishments is something that 
must be witnessed to be appreciated. 

Nor is this crowding of the population the result 
of poverty. Land is so valuable that rents are enor- 
mously high. But few persons can afford the luxury 



560 NEW YORK. 

of a separate house, and working-men, with famiUes 
dependent upon them, cannot think of having their 
own estabhshments. They must be content to share 
a house with several famihes, and therefore confine 
their establishments to a few rooms. They are com- 
pelled to live within easy reach of their places of em- 
ployment, and therefore are obliged to take up their 
quarters in the most thickly settled portions of the 
city. Men earning handsome wages are compelled 
to live in these vast barracks, because the rent of a 
single house ranges from ^looo upwards. It is hoped 
that the Elevated Railroads, which afford rapid transit 
between the upper and lower sections of the city, will 
enable the better class of working people to possess 
homes of their own in the Harlem district and on the 
mainland, where rents are not so high, and so thin out 
the tenement-house population. 

The city contains two classes of tenement houses. 
Those of the first class are occupied by well-to-do 
working people ; those of the second by the very 
poor. The first are large, neat-looking structures, 
and are kept as clean as the great number of people 
occupying them will permit ; the second are wretched 
abodes of misery, and often of vice and crime. The 
better class tenement houses are constructed for the 
purposes to which they are put; the second class are 
simply buildings intended originally for a single family, 
but now occupied by as many as they will contain. 
These houses are very profitable to their owners, and 
some of them pay as much as thirty per cent, on the 
money invested in them. Some of the central wards 
of the city contain whole squares, and, indeed, many 



'niiini'ifiiin 




A SPECIMEN TENEMENT HOUSE. 561 

consecutive squares, built up with houses of this kind. 
One of these, which is but a specimen of many, has 
a frontage of 50 feet and a depth of 250 feet. On 
each side of it is an alleyway running the whole length 
of the buildinof, excavated to the level of the cellar, 
and arched over on a level with the street, with grat- 
ings in the flags with which it is paved to admit light 
and air to the vaults below. In these vaults are placed 
the water-closets of the house, which are drained into 
the street sewers. The water-closets are without doors, 
and the vapors and gases from them rise through the 
gratings into the alleyways above, and thence find 
their way into the house. The building is five stories 
in height, and has a flat roof. The windows on the 
sides open into the alleys and receive the poisonous 
gases which arise from them. Water is laid on each 
floor. The apartments for a family consist of a kitchen, 
which is also the livino- or sittinof-room, and one or 
more bed-rooms. The rooms are dark, badly venti- 
lated, and into the most of them the sun never shines. 
The house contains 126 families, and has a population 
of 700 souls. As may be supposed, it is dirty, and 
full of bad smells. In the winter time it is close and 
unhealthy, and in the summer the heat of so many 
cookinor-stoves renders it almost unbearable. What 
life is in one of these houses the reader can easily 
imagine. Yet each family pays for its apartment an 
annual rental which, in Baltimore, Philadelphia, and 
other cities of the country, would secure it a separate 
and comfortable house. From ^10 to ^30 a month is 
the average rental of a suite of rooms in a tenement 
house. The buildinor we have described is not an ex- 

-,6 



562 NEW YORK. 

ception to the general rule. The city contains whole 
blocks of such structures. There are many single 
blocks containing more people than some of our most 
thriving towns. The Fourth Ward, covering an area 
of 83 acres, contains 21,015 inhabitants; the Eleventh, 
with an area of 196 acres, has 68,779 inhabitants; the 
Seventh, with an area of no acres, contains 50,066 
inhabitants ; and the Seventeenth, with an area of 331 
acres, contains 104,895 inhabitants. In 1880, the fol- 
lowing cities contained populations as follows : Provi- 
dence, R. I., 104,760; Richmond, Va., 63,243; Colum- 
bus, Ohio, 51,650; Hartford, Conn., 42,560; Taunton, 
Mass., 21,252; and Elmira, N. Y., 20,646. By con- 
trastinor the area of these cities with that of the wards 
named above, the reader will be able to form som.e 
idea of the terrible overcrowding of this portion of 
New York. 

The tenement houses being so greatly overcrowded, 
it is impossible to keep them clean, and the majority of 
them are in bad repair. The mortality of these houses 
is fearful. In the summer season they are hot-beds of 
disease, and children die in them at a fearful rate. It 
is impossible for the authorities to enforce sanitary 
regulations in these buildings, and in spite of every 
effort on the part of the Board of Health to check 
the evil, the death-rate continues fearfully high. 

The overcrowding of the tcMiement houses renders 
them nurseries of vice and crime. Children of all 
kinds are thrown together, and learn vicious ways, 
which develop as they grow older into worse traits. 
Privacy is impossible, and the various families may be 
said to live almost in common. 



THE HOME OF VICE AND CRIME. 5G3 



CHAPTER XLIII. 

JERRY McAULEY's MISSION. 

■WATER STREET — THE MISSION^ITS SULCKSS — JEKKV m'aULEY — THE REFORMED THIEF — MRS. 
M'AtlLEY — THE PRAYER-MEETINGS — THE AUDIENCE — JERKY m'auLEY's METHODS — A 
SCENE AT A PRAYER-MEETING A WONDERFUL WORK. 

In one of the vilest sections of Water street, right 
under the shadow of the anchorajre of the ^reat East 
River Bridge, is a substantial but modest-looking 
brick building, known as "316 Water street.' Over 
the door hangs a lantern bearing the inscription, 
"Jerry McAuley's Prayer- Meetings." When the 
shades of night come on, and the rays of the lantern 
shine out, revealing the legend inscribed upon it, they 
illuminate a region full of vice, crime, and suffering. 
The street is lined with long rows of rum-shops, rat- 
pits, low-down gambling dens, and thieves' dives of 
the worst description. Here and there are dance- 
houses, brilliantly lighted, and ornamented with gaudy 
transparencies. Strains of music float out into the 
night air, and about the doors and along the side- 
walks stand groups of hideous women, waiting to 
entice sailors into these hells, where they are made 
drunk with drugged liquors, robbed of their money 
and valuables, and turned helpless into the streets. 
Groups of drunken and foul-mouthed men and boys 
lounge about the street, bandying vile jests with the 
women, and often insulting respectable passers-by. 
High over all this sea of wretchedness and sin, Jerry 



oG4 



NEW YORK. 



McAuley's lantern shines out like a beacon light, the 
only sign of cheer and hope to be seen. If you listen 
you will hear sounds of music in this building also, 
but the strains are of praise and thanksgiving — strange 
sounds to be heard in such a neighborhood. 

Some years ago a wretched frame building, that 




JERRY M AULEY. 



had long been used for the vilest purposes, occupied 
the site of the present edifice. It had been for many 
years notorious as a dance-house and rum-shop, and 
was a terror to the neighborhood and a marked house 
to-the police. Great was the surprise of Water street, 
therefore, when, one night in October, 1S72, the place, 



THE REFORMED RIVER PIRATE. 5Go 

after having been closed for a short time, was opened 
as a Christian mission, and devoted to saving the 
drunken and sinful dwellers in this section of the city. 
Greater still was the surprise when it was announced 
that the Mission was to be conducted by Jerry McAu- 
ley and his wife. The work was slow at first, but it 
prospered, and at length assumed such proportions 
that the old building was found inadequate to the pur- 
poses of the Mission, and, in 1876, was torn down 
and the present edifice erected in its place. 

The surprise of Water street at seeing Jerry McAu- 
ley and his wife in its midst in the guise of missionaries 
was not unnatural. Jerry was a tall, strapping Irish- 
man, and had been for years one of the most notori- 
ous roughs in the city. He was a river thief by pro- 
fession, and a habitual drunkard. He had committed 
every crime except that of murder, and for years had 
been the terror of Water street. At last he was 
arrested for one of his numerous offences, and was 
sentenced to a term in Sing Sing prison. While there 
he began to reflect upon his past life, experienced a 
change of heart, and embraced religion. Upon being 
released from prison, he returned to New York, and 
sought out the woman who had for a number of years 
lived with him, and been his partner in sin and crime. 
They were married, and began to devote themselves 
to the work of saving the souls of the wretched crea- 
tures among whom their lot had been formerly cast. 
The change in both was simply miraculous. They 
took the old dance-house in Water street, made it as 
neat as their means would admit, and then began 
their orood work. Their meetino^s were well attended ; 



5Q6 NEW YORK. 

many came to see their old companions in their new 
characters, and others to make fun ; but the earnest- 
ness of the devoted pair had its effect, and the curious 
and the scoffers became converts in their turn. Little 
by little assistance began to be held out to the Mis- 
sion, and at length a strong body of Christian men 
and women came to its aid with money, a new build- 
ing was erected, and the Mission placed upon a sound 
and safe basis. 

Whatever the lives of Jerry McAuley and his wife 
may have been previous to their reformation, they 
have nobly atoned for them in the Christian work they 
have done in the past nine years. They have gone 
among the outcasts and the wretched, the sinful and 
the degraded, and have rescued them from their vile 
ways, brought them to a saving knowledge of God 
and his religion, and have started them in a new and 
better course of life. Their efforts often fail; many of 
their converts relapse into their old ways, but the 
number of those who are actually reformed is surpris- 
ingly large, and the lasting results achieved are great 
and glorious. No one, however wretched, however 
far gone in sin, is ever turned away ; a helping hand 
is, extended to all, and the vilest outcast is made to 
feel welcome and confident that there is still a chance 
for salvation left him. 

There is no more interesting sight to be witnessed 
in the great city than one of Jerry McAuley's prayer- 
meetings. The audience is made up of men and 
women of various classes, including many who avoid 
other Christian aQ^encies, who have never been in a 
place of prayer, or heard the Bible read except by the 



JERRY S PRAYER MEEIINGS. 



5G7 



prison chaplain ; " poor, friendless men who have drifted 
into New York from all parts of the world ; drunkards, 
thieves, roughs, and discharged convicts ; sailors, boat- 
men, longshoremen, and many prodigal sons who have 
wandered away from Christian mothers and have fallen 
into crime and beggary." 




MRS. m'aULKY. 



The meetings are held in the chapel, w^hich is a 
pleasant, well-lighted and ventilated room, on the first 
floor. Near the entrance hangs a sign, inscribed as 
follows : — " The use of tobacco in this room is strictly 
forbidden;" and near the upper end of the room is 
another, bearing this inscription : — " Speakers are 



r)(38 NEW YORK. 

Strictly limited to one minute," The room is neatly 
furnished, and is provided with a cabinet organ, at 
which Mrs. McAuley, a nice, lady-like woman, with a 
sweet, Madonna-like face, earnest, yet marked with the 
sadness of past trouble, presides. 

The genius of the place is Jerry McAuley, the re- 
formed criminal, and now the powerful messenger of 
the Gospel to the lost ones of the great city. He is a 
tall, well-built man, with sharp eyes, a long, sharp 
nose, and a quick, decisive manner. He is thoroughly 
in earnest in his work, and having been one of the 
class to whom he appeals, understanding their charac- 
ter and habits, being intense in his purposes, and ani- 
mated by a desire to win sinners to the Saviour, he is 
able to speak with effectual power to these rough 
men, who listen respectfully to his words, and are 
attracted by those personal peculiarities that fit him 
for his work — a work which is unique, and has become 
one of the most important in the lower part of the 
great city. Before the meeting begins, and through- 
out its progress, he is all through the hall, attending 
to every arrangement, trying to make every one com- 
fortable, and orivino- his warmest welcomes to the most 
degraded of all who seek admittance. His programme 
of the exercises of the evening, is thus stated in his 
own energetic way : — " We start the meetin' sharp at 
half-past seven ; the man who reads the Bible takes 
till a quarter to eight — if he is a long-winded feller he 
stretches it out till eight — then I take hold of it, shut 
the speeches down to one minute, and on we go for 
three-quarters of an hour with testimonies." This 
programme is rigidly adhered to. Jerry knows the 



JERRY Mc-AULEY ON DUTY. 569 

value of brevity, and, therefore, rigidly enforces the 
one-minute rule. 

The audience drops in in little "gangs," as Jerry 
calls them, and by half-past seven the chapel is well- 
filled. As the clock points the half hour, Jerry opens 
his hymn-book, and calls out in a strong, cheery voice, 
"sixty-nine! " and thereupon the singing begins, led 
by the cabinet organ and the woman whose voice was 
once raised only in blasphemy. If the singing is a lit- 
tle faint, Jerry spurs up his audience by calling out, 
"Don't be afraid of your voices, boys ; sing out with 
your whole soul ;" and generally the volume of praise 
erows strong-erand fuller. The sinmnof over, a roucjh, 
but cleanly-looking young man, rises from his seat, 
and goes timidly to the platform, where he kneels for 
a moment in prayer. Then, rising, he opens the Bible, 
and reads the chapter for the evening, after which he 
gives in his rough way his own experience. 

The testimonies roll in as the meeting progresses, 
strange and startling many of them, some so quaintly 
worded that they would provoke a smile in a more 
" respectable " prayer-meeting, but all given with an 
earnestness and pathos that is wonderful. Sometimes 
a drunken sailor will endeavor to interrupt the meet- 
ing. One night a man of this kind staggered to his 
feet, and hiccoughed, ** Jesus saves me, too." 

"That ain't so," replied Jerry, emphatically; "Jesus 
don't save any man that is full of gin." 

And down sits the sailor, utterly abashed by the 
prompt retort. 

Jerry acts as his own policeman, and meets all at- 
tempts at disturbance on the ground. The offenders 



570 NEW YORK. 

are seized in his powerful grasp, led to the door, and 
put into the street. 

As the testimonies are given, the audience is deeply 
moved. Yonder is a street-walker, kneeling on the 
floor, with her face hid in her hands, sobbing bitterly. 
Jerry smiles, beckons his wife, and the good woman 
goes down to the poor outcast, and whispers to her 
despairing soul the only words of hope she has ever 
heard. Others give evidence of their desire to be 
saved, and the meeting devotes itself to prayer for 
them. Jerry's keen eye sweeps the room, and at 
once detects the hesitating. In an instant he is at 
their side, devoting his rude but powerful eloquence 
to urging them to take the decisive step theii and thei^e. 
There is something wonderfully encouraging in his 
strong, hearty grasp of the hand, and in his earnest 
tones. "I was worse than you," he says; "but the 
good Lord saved me. I know there is a chance for 
you. Take hold of it, my boy, right now." 

When nine o'clock strikes, there is a hymn, a short 
prayer, and then Jerry dismisses the meeting with a 
hearty invitation to come again the next night. 



THE THEATRES 571 



CHAPTER XLIV. 

METROPOLITAN AMUSEMENTS. 

THE PRINCIPAL THEATRES — METROPOLITAN AUDIENCES — EXPENSES OF A FIRST-CLASS THEATRE 
— SALARIES OF ACTORS — PRODUCTION OF NEW M-AYS — LONG RUNS — " BOOTh's " THEATRK 
A MODEL ESTABLISHMENT — THE GRAND OPERA HOUSE — "wALLACk's" — "THE UNION 
square" — " DALY's " — THE ACADEMY OF MUSIC — VARIETY THEATRES — THE GRAND 
duke's THEATRE — NEGRO MINSTRELS — CONCERTS — LECTURES. 

In nothing- does New York show its Metropolitan 
character more strikingly than in its amusements. At 
the head of these stand the theatres, which are more 
numerous and magnificent than in any American city. 
The Metropolis contains fifteen first-class theatres. 
They are as follows: — The Academy of Music, Wal- 
lack's, the Union Square,. Daly's, the Madison Square, 
the Park, Booth's, the Grand Opera House, Haverley's 
Fourteenth Street, the Fifth Avenue, the Standard, 
the Germania, Harrigan & Hart's, the Thalia, and the 
Bijou Opera House. Besides these are a number 
of second-class and variety establishments, and the 
third-rate theatres of the Bowery and other sections 
of the city. They are open from the early fall until 
the late spring, with the exception of the Academy of 
Music, which is devoted chiefly to Italian Opera, of 
which only brief seasons are given. They are liberally 
supported by the residents of the city, and receive an 
immense patronage from the great throng of strangers 
constantly in New York. It is estimated that from 
^30,000 to ^40,000 are nightly expended in the city 



572 NEW YORK. 

in the purchase of theatre tickets, or from seven to 
eight miUion dollars in a single season. 

The Metropolitan theatres are the handsomest and 
best appointed in the United States, and produce their 
plays with a splendor and completeness of detail un- 
known in any other American city. The companies 
are generally made up of actors and actresses who 
stand at the head of their profession. A Metropoli- 
tan audience is hard to please, and is keenly critical, 
as many would-be managers have learned to their 
cost. It will not tolerate them, but is ever ready 
to encouraee and reward true merit. To become a 
favorite on the New York stage is to win a proud po- 
sition in the dramatic profession, and one that will 
command success in any part of the country. The 
leading theatres retain their players as long as they 
will stay, and many old actors still delight the audiences 
of the city who conferred the same pleasure upon the 
fathers and mothers of their present patrons. 

The expenses of a first-class theatre in New York 
are enormous. The rent runs up into the tens of 
thousands per annum, and, besides the actors and 
actresses, anywhere from fifty to one hundred people 
are employed in each establishment in various capaci- 
ties. The salaries of the company are liberal, and the 
leading-man and leading-lady receive very high pay. 
Wallack pays Miss Rose Coghlan, his leading-lady, 
^300 a week, for forty weeks in the year ; Thorne, the 
leading-man at the Union Square, receives $200 a 
week ; and John Gilbert, the best actor in Wallack's 
company, receives $125 a week. These are high 
figures. A salary of ;^ioo a week is a large one, and 



EXPENSES OF A FIRST-CLASS THEATRE. 573 

many of the best artists in stock companies work 
like beavers for from ^^50 to ^85 a week. It all de- 
pends upon the merit of an actor and his popularity 
with the public. An actor or actress who can draw 
full houses, and draw them steadily, whatever the at- 
traction may consist in, is always certain of high pay. 
Out of their salaries they must provide, in some thea- 
tres, their costumes and other stage properties ; in 
other establishments the manager pays half of the 
cost of the female costumes ; and in one or two these 
are provided by the house. Now, as a large part of 
the attraction of a piece lies in the magnificent toilettes 
of the actresses, the reader can understand what a 
heavy expense the player or the management is under 
in providing them. 

In the production of a new piece, new scenery and 
stage appointments must be provided, and a first-class 
house must expend many thousand dollars — often sev- 
eral tens of thousands — before the curtain rises upon 
the first performance. The risk is very great, and 
only the long runs which a successful play is sure to 
enjoy, would justify a manager in assuming it. The 
enormous number of theatre-goers in the city enables 
a manager to keep a popular piece on the boards for 
months. These long runs are extremely profitable to 
the management, and enables the players to perfect 
themselves in their roles to a degree impossible in 
other cities. The two most profitable theatres in 
New York are Wallack's and the Union Square. 
They have the best companies, put their plays on the 
stage more carefully and elaborately than the other 



574 NEW YORK. 

houses, and have a steady, assured patronage upon 
which they can depend with certainty. 

The handsomest theatre in the city is " Booth's," at 
the south-east corner of Sixth avenue and Twenty- 
third street. It is a beautiful granite edifice, in the 
renaissance style, and is one of the largest of the city 
theatres. The interior Is beautifully decorated, is 
provided with three galleries, and will seat over 2000 
persons. The seats are so arranged that every one 
commands a perfect view of the stage. The frescos 
are far superior to any used in the decoration of an 
American theatre, and are genuine works of art. The 
stage is one of the most perfect in the world ; the 
scenery is moved by machinery ; and the changes of 
scene are executed with such quietness and ease, that 
they seem like a series of dissolving views. 

The theatre was built by Edwin Booth, between 
1867 and 1869, and was designed by him to be the 
most sumptuous temple of the drama in America. 
It was opened in January, 1869, and for several sea- 
sons was conducted by Mr. Booth. Here he pro- 
duced his plays upon a scale of magnificence never 
witnessed before even in New York — his Shakespear- 
ian revivals beinof amonof the events of the dramatic 
history of the country. This entailed upon the estab- 
lishment a degree of expense which proved Mr. 
Booth's financial ruin, and he was at length compelled 
to. retire from the management. His successors have 
been but little more fortunate. The necessary ex- 
penses of the house are very great, and the theatre- 
goers of New York have not supported the efforts of 
the successive managers as they have deserved. 



576 



NEW YORK. 



The Grand Opera House, at the north-west corner 
of Eighth avenue and Twenty-third street, ranks next 
to "Booth's" in magnificence. It is a massive struc- 
ture of white marble, erected by the late Samuel N. 
Pike, of Cincinnati, as an opera house, about fourteen 
years ago. The location was unfortunate, however, 
and the opera house failed as a pecuniary venture 




THK GKAND OPERA HOUSE- 



from the start. In 1869 it was purchased by the late 
James Fiske, Jr. and Jay Gould. The front building 
was converted into offices for the Erie Railway, which 
was at that time controlled by these gentlemen. Under 
Fiske's management the Grand Opera House was the 
home of Opera Boiiffe. The theatre is situated in a 
rear building, and is entered from Eighth avenue and 



wallack's theatre. 577 

Twenty-third street by a magnificent lobby. The gal- 
leries are approached by the handsomest stairway in 
the city. The theatre is beautifully decorated, will 
seat over 2000 people, and is provided with one of 
the largest and best-appointed stages in the world. 
Of late years the establishment has been very suc- 
cessful — first-class attractions and popular prices 
being the policy of the management. 

Wallack's Theatre is par excellence the theatre of 
New York. It is situated at the north-east corner of 
Broadway and Thirtieth street, and is one of the most 
elegant and beautiful houses in the city. It was 
opened in December, 1881, and is under the sole 
management of the distinguished actor, Mr. J. Lester 
Wallack. The old house, at the corner of Broadway 
and Thirteenth street, is now a German theatre. 
"Wallack's" is the favorite house with resident New 
Yorkers, and its audiences contain a larger proportion 
of city people than those of any of its rivals. Its 
company is the best in the city, is largely made up 
of old favorites, and is the model troupe of the 
country. Th^ theatre is one of the most prosperous 
in New York, and naturally so, as the performances 
here are given with a degree of perfection unequalled 
anywhere in the world. 

The Union Square Theatre is situated on Fourteenth 
street, three doors east of Broadway, and faces Union 
Square. It was originally leased and fitted up by 
Sheridan Shook, as a variety theatre. In 1872 it was 
opened by its present manager, Mr. A. M. Palmer, as 
a first-class theatre, and devoted chiefly to the sensa- 
tional school. Under Mr. Palmer's management it 
37 



578 NEW YORK. 

has been a magnificent success, ranking as the most 
profitable house in the MetropoHs. Its receipts for 
the first five years of Mr. Palmer's management 
amounted to over a million dollars. The auditorium 
is very beautiful, and the plays produced here are 
brought out upon a scale of unusual magnificence, 

" Daly's Theatre " is situated on Broadway, opposite 
Wallack's. It is very handsome, and is under the 
management of Mr. Augustin Daly, the well-known 
dramatist. It is devoted to the sensational school, 
and ranks amonof the most successful establishments 
in the city. 

The Academy of Music is the Opera House of New 
York. It is a plain building of red brick, situated at 
the corner of Fourteenth street and Irving Place. It 
is the largest theatre in the city, and will seat 2400 
people. It is magnificently decorated in crimson and 
gold, and its auditorium equals in beauty and splendor 
that of any European opera house. The scene during 
opera nights is very brilliant, the audience being in 
full dress, and comprising a thorough representation 
of the elite and fashion of the Metropolis. 

There are several German theatres in New York, 
in which plays and opera are rendered in the language 
of the Fatherland. The principal of these are " The 
Germania," formerly "Wallack's," at the corner of 
Broadway and Thirteenth street, and " The Thalia," 
formerly " The Old Bowery," situated on that classic 
thoroughfare below Canal street. 

Variety theatres are numerous. Of these the prin- 
cipal are Harrigan & Hart's, on Broadway, opposite 
the New York Hotel, and "Tony Pastor's," on Four- 



THE GRAND DUKE's THEATRE. 579 

•teenth street, between Third and Fourth avenues. 
These estabhshments draw large audiences, and are 
very profitable. 

The third-class theatres are situated principally on 
the Bowery. The price of admission is low, and the 
performance suited to the tastes of the audience. The 
majority of these remain open during the summer 
months. 

Perhaps the most remarkable dramatic establish- 
ment in the city is the Grand Duke's Theatre, or, as 
it is better known to its patrons, " The Grand Dook 
Theatre," in Water street. It was formerly located in 
Baxter street, and began its career in a very humble 
way; but with increasing prosperity removed to more 
suitable quarters in Water street. The prices of ad- 
mission are as follows: — Boxes, 25 cents; orchestra, 
15 cents; balcony, 10 cents; gallery 5 cents. The es- 
tablishment is managed and controlled by boys, and 
its audiences consist chiefly of bootblacks, newsboys, 
and the juvenile denizens of the east side of the city, 
ranging in age from three to 20 years. The company 
is composed of youths yet in their teens, and the per- 
formances are of the blood-and-thunder order, inter- 
spersed with " variety acts " of a starding description. 
The house and its appointments are primitive, and 
the stage and scenery equally so. The orchestra is 
made up of amateur musicians, and is placed out of 
sight at the back of the stage. The foodights consist 
of six kerosene lamps with glass shades. Two red- 
plush lounges, stuffed with saw-dust, and in a sad state 
of dilapidadon, serve as boxes ; while the orchestra 
stalls are represented by half a dozen two-legged 



580 NEW YORK. 

benches, and the balcony and gallery are composed 
of a bewildering arrangement of step-ladders and dry- 
goods boxes. The manager acts as his own police- 
man, and enforces order by punching the heads of 
disorderly spectators, or by summarily ejecting them. 
The performances are crude, but they satisfy the au- 
dience, and never fail to draw forth a storm of ap- 
plause, mingled with shrill whistles, cat-calls, and other 
vocal sounds. The boys are satisfied. What more 
could be desired? 

Negro minstrelsy is very popular in New York. 
The Metropolis has a warm corner in its heart for 
the "burnt-cork opera." Several handsome minstrel 
halls provide nightly entertainments during the season, 
which are largely attended by respectable audiences. 

Concerts and lectures are also well patronized. 
Chickering's, Steinway's, and Association Halls, and 
the great hall of the Cooper Union, are the principal 
centres of these attractions. 



POVERTY IN NEW YORK. 581 



CHAPTER XLV. 

LIFE UNDER THE SHADOW. 

POVERTY IN NEW YORK — THE DESERVING POOR — SAD SCENES — "RAGPICKERS* ROW " — HOW 
THE RAGPICKERS LIVE — AN ITALIAN COLONY — SOUR BEiiR — DRUNKENNESS IN " RAGPICK- 
ERS' ROW " — BOTTLE ALLEY — A RELIC OF THE FIVE POINTS — A WRETCHED QUARTER — THE 
DWELLINGS OK POVERTY — THE CELLARS — LIFE BELOW GROUND^BAXTER STREET — THE 
CHINESE MARTYR — A HOSPITAL FOR CATS. 

It is a terrible thing to be poor in any part of the 
world. In New York poverty is simply a living death. 
The city is full of suffering and misery. Some of it the 
wretched people who endure it have, no doubt, brought 
upon themselves by drink, by idleness, or by other 
faults, but a large majority are simply unfortunate. 
Their poverty has come upon them through no fault 
of their own ; they struggle bravely against it, and 
would better their condition if they could only find 
work. They are held down by an iron hand, however, 
and vainly endeavor to rise out of their misery. They 
dwell in wretched tenement houses, in the cellars of 
the buildings in the more thickly populated parts ot 
the city, and in the shanties in the unsetded regions 
lying west of the Central Park. A few families, even 
in the midst of their sufferings, manage to keep their 
poor quarters clean and neat, but the majority live in 
squalor and filth. But litde furniture is to be seen in 
the rooms of the poor. Everything that can bring 
money finds its way to the pawnshops for the means 
to buy food. Many of these wretched homes have 
been stripped of all their contents for this purpose. 



THE HOMES OF THE POOR. 583 

A cooking-Stove sometimes constitutes the only article 
of furniture in a room, and the inmates sleep upon pal- 
lets on the floor. Not a chair or table is to be seen. 
Often there is no stove, and the only food that passes 
the lips of the occupants of these rooms is what is 
given to them in charity. 

The inmates of these wretched homes are often 
families who have seen better days. Once the husband 
and father could give those dependent upon him a 
comfortable home, and provide at least the necessaries 
of life. But sickness came upon him, or death took 
him, and the litde family was deprived of his support. 
In vain the mother sought to procure work to keep 
her children in comfort. What work she could pro- 
cure was at intervals, and the litde she earned barely 
sufficed to keep a roof over their heads. Litde by 
little they sank lower, until poverty in its worst form 
settled upon them. The city is full of such cases, and 
the Missionaries whose labors among the poor bring 
them in constant contact with such scenes of suffering, 
confess that they do not know how these poor people 
manage to live. Whole blocks are filled with families 
on the verge of starvation, suffering every kind of 
privation. They would gladly work if they could get 
employment; but the city is so full of sufferers like 
themselves that they cannot escape from their wretched 
condition. " Botde Alley," " Ragpickers' Row," sec- 
tions of the Five Points, and other localities, present 
scenes of misery which almost surpass belief. Many 
of the dwellers here pick up a bare subsistence as 
street scavengers. They gather up whatever they can 
find, and sell it to the junk and rag stores for what- 



584 NEW YORK. 

ever it will bring. They carry the mass of refuse 
they collect during the day to their homes, sort it out 
there, spread out the rags, or hang them up to dry, 
pile up the other materials in the yards and courts of 
their dwellings until they can dispose of them, and 
thus add to the wretched appearance and filth of their 
quarters. 

To those who visit these sections of the city, each 
one seems worse than the other. " Bottle Alley " 
appears as bad as can be, yet "Gotham Court" seems 
in some respects even worse, and "Ragpickers' Row" 
appears more wretched still. "Ragpickers' Row" is 
the most wretched haunt occupied by human beings 
in the New World. It is easily found. You leave 
the Bowery at Bayard street, go down two blocks to 
Mulberry street, and it is just around the corner. 
Anybody can tell you where the ragpickers live. 
There is no mistaking the place. "A junkman's cellar 
in the front house opens widely to the street, and, peer- 
ing down, one may see a score of men and women 
half buried in dirty rags and paper, which they are 
gathering up and putting into bales for the paper 
mills. This is the general depot to which the rag- 
picker brings his odds and ends for sale after he has 
assorted them. Just as we emerge from this cellar a 
ragpicker, heavily laden, passes up the stoop and 
enters the hall above. Following him, we come to a 
small, badly-paved courtyard, which separates the 
front from the rear houses. Standing here and look- 
ing up, one beholds a sight that cannot be imagined. 
Rags to the right of him, rags to the left of him, on 
all sides nothing but rags. Lines in the yard draped 




t.HlNESl. QUARTFR. 



DWELLINGS OF THE RAGPICKERS. 585 

with them, balconies festooned with them, fire-escapes 
decorated with them, windows hung with them ; in 
short, every available object dressed in rags — and 
such rags ! of every possible size, shape, and color. 
Some of them have been drawn through the wash-tub 
to get off the worst dirt, but for the most part they 
are hung up just as they were taken from the bags, 
and left to the rain and sun to cleanse them. The 
exterior of the buildings is wretched enough ; the inte- 
rior equally so. Some of the rooms, on a cloudy day, 
are as dark as dungeons, with but little light coming 
in through the dirty window on the front and the 
smaller one on the back. Every inch of the ceiling 
and walls is as black as ink. Against this dark back- 
ground are hung unused hats of odd colors and still 
odder shapes, musical instruments of various kinds, 
pots, kettles, and pans, pokers, joints of raw meat 
partly consumed, strings of Bologna sausages, the 
gowns of the women, and great pipes. The beds are 
almost invariably covered with old carpets, that still 
retain some bits of their original colors. None of the 
chairs have backs, and hardly any of them have four 
legs. Seated on these uncertain supports, or oftener 
on an empty soap-box or upturned boiler, are the rag- 
pickers. Every man in the house has his hat on, 
including one in the bed napping after the hard work 
of the early morning. Not one bareheaded man is 
seen anywhere. Some of them are sitting dreamily 
by the stove, but most of them are sorting old rags or 
cutting up old coats and pantaloons that are too rot- 
ten to wear, and stuffing the bits into bags for the 
junk dealer. In one room is a woman plucking a 



586 NEW YORK. 

well-seasoned goose with her dirty hands. In another 
place four men are seated on a big chest, with a bit 
of Boloo^na sausao-e in one hand and a chunk of bread 
in the other, making their noon-day meal. These 
same hands have just been turning over the filthy 
scraps from the garbage-boxes and the gutters. On 
the ground floor a man, who looks for all the world 
like a brigand, is stirring broth over the fire, and the 
horrible odor of rottenness that comes from the pot 
is enough to knock one down. 

" None of the members of this Italian colony speak 
English, except here and there one who has mastered 
a few common phrases ; but there is one word that 
all of them understand, and that is, * Beer.' Here, as 
in ' Bottle Alley,* kegs are found in several of the 
rooms, where the contents are dealt out at a cent a 
glass. It is nearly all sour stuff, given to the men for 
helping on the brewers' wagons, or sold to them at 
the end of the day for a mere trifle. ' Is there much 
drunkenness there ? ' asked the writer of a police-offi- 
cer. ' Oh, yes, sir,' he replied ; ' we can go in there, 
or in any of these alleys, any night, and get a cart- 
load of drunken and disorderlies. We don't take 
them one by one, but gather them up in a hand-cart, 
and wheel them off to the station-house. They are 
not usually people who live there, but bummers who 
go there to drink.'" For these wretched quarters the 
people who live in them pay from five to six dollars a 
month rent out of their earnings, which rarely exceed 
fifty cents a day. 

"Bottle Alley" is another terrible neighborhood. It 
is a portion of the old Five Points, and is the abode 




;'! Jiifi'l! !lfl| I 



'I 



■ a 



588 NEW YORK. 

of misery and wretchedness. How it came by its 
name no one knows, but it was probably so called 
because of the trade in old bottles carried on by a 
junkman who lives in its rear. The alleyway, about 
four and a half feet wide, is cut through the front 
house, and, running back about thirty-five feet, it opens 
into a little courtyard that faces the rear building. It 
is irregularly paved with cobble-stones, is covered 
with filth, and looks as though it might be a passage- 
way leading from a stable. Standing at the entrance, 
and looking in from the street, no one would ever dream 
that the tumble-down building in the rear was the 
abode of human beings. 

The cellar is a queer hole. Passing down a flight 
of stone steps (every one of which is out of joint 
with its neighbor) and through a dilapidated doorway, 
you stand in an apartment ten by fourteen feet, with a 
ceiling so low that you can scarcely stand up with your 
hat on. One of these walls is of bare logs, the others 
of undressed stone. There are no chairs to sit on, 
only a few rough boxes. An Italian family of five 
persons occupies the room, paying five dollars a month 
rent, and taking lodgers — sometimes eight to twelve — 
at five cents a night. To add to their income they 
sell sour beer at two cents a pint or three cents a 
quart. The place is filthy beyond belief. The two 
upper floors are not quite so bad ; but they contain 
sights that bafi^e description. The inmates are hud- 
dled together in disregard of cleanliness and decency. 
The rooms are dirty and the air is foul. The food is 
gathered principally from the garbage-boxes of the 
streets or from the offal of the markets. The cook- 



LIFE IN THE CELLARS. 589 

ing Is done from time to time, and fills the rooms with 
horrible odors. There are no bedsteads. Filthy-look- 
ing mattresses are spread on the floor, or on boards 
placed upon supports. The inmates never undress, 
but go to bed with their clothes on, including their 
boots and shoes. The children are wan and pinched 
in appearance, and are frightfully dirty. What wonder 
that sickness and disease hold high revel here ? 

Bad as is the lot of these people, they at least exist 
upon the face of the earth. Those who dwell in the 
cellars of these wretched quarters are infinitely worse 
off. The cellars are all located below the level of the 
pavements. They have but one entrance, and a sin- 
gle window gives light and ventilation. There is no 
outlet to the rear, and the filth of the streets drains 
steadily into them. They are occupied by the poorest 
of the poor, and the amount of misery and wretched- 
ness, of dirt and squalor to be witnessed in them sur- 
passes description. In the winter time a stove heats 
the place, and renders the air so foul and stifling that 
one unaccustomed to it cannot breathe in the room. 
Many of these cellars are lodging-houses, into which 
the wretched outcasts who walk the streets during 
the day crowd for shelter at night. They pay from 
two to five cents for a night's lodging, and sometimes 
as many as from twenty-five to fifty persons are 
packed in these terrible holes. 

Baxter street is another scene of misery, and, alas, 
of crime. It is the centre of the Italian and Chinese 
colonies. Its dwellings are equal in wretchedness to 
those described. It is a terrible neighborhood, and 
at night even the police venture into it with caution. 



590 NEW YORK. 

Drunken rows, fights, and stabbing affrays- are of 
nightly occurrence. 

John Chinaman finds his home in this and the 
neighboring streets. He is a stranger and a waif in 
the great city, but he has managed to estabhsh a dis- 
tinct quarter here. In other portions of the city are 
Chinese laundries, where the almond-eyed Celestials 
conduct the business of washingr and ironinsf at rates 
which could not possibly afford a decent living to 
white men ; but here are the headquarters of the 
Mongolians, their gaming houses and opium dens. 
Though peaceable as a rule, they are sometimes very 
troublesome, and the police find them hard customers 
to handle. They are inveterate gamblers, and one of 
their chief dissipations consists in stupefying them- 
selves by smoking opium. The opium dens are sim- 
ply dirty rooms provided with wooden bunks, in which 
the smokers may lie and sleep off the effects of the 
terrible drug. Many of these places are patronized 
by white people, and some number women of the 
lower class amonof their customers. 

One of the greatest curiosities in New York is the 
*' Hospital for Cats." It is located at No. i 70 Divi- 
sion street, in the midst of the tenement-house section 
of the city, and is conducted by Mrs. Rosalia Good- 
man, a philanthropic German lady. She devotes the 
greater part of her time to the comfort and relief of 
neglected and persecuted felines, and is quite an en- 
thusiast in her singular avocation. The house she 
occupies is a three-story wooden structure, dating back 
to the Dutch period of the city. She has lived there 
for a number of years, and makes a comfortable living 



THE HOSPITAL FOR CATS. 591 

• 

by rentingr rooms, retaining two for herself and her 
cats. Besides many pets who for years have been 
kindly cared for, the family is being constantly in- 
creased by the addition of unfortunate tabbies whose 
wants are brought to the notice of the worthy lady. 
Lean and hungry cats, prowling around in search of 
food ; cats who bear scars received by having boot- 
jacks, bricks, and crockery-ware hurled at them by 
unappreciative hearers while they were performing a 
midnight concert ; cats who come out with broken 
limbs and disordered fur from an interview with 
naughty little boys ; cats who afe hungry and in dis- 
tress, or who have strayed away from their homes, are 
brought here, and are kindly received and cared for. 
So well is the idiosyncrasy of Mrs. Goodman known 
in the neighborhood, that whenever one of her neigh- 
bors finds a cat in distress, it is taken to her, and is 
always welcomed. Her room presents a most singu- 
lar appearance. It is literally filled with cats of all 
sizes and descriptions, who crowd around the good 
lady, perch upon her shoulders, and nestle in her arms. 
She prepares their food with her own hands, and care- 
fully ministers to all their wants. 



592 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XLVI. 

THE METROPOLITAN PRESS. 

THE DAILY NEWSPAPERS — HOW THE LEADING JOURNALS ARE CONDUCTED — THE VARIOUS DE- 
PARTMENTS — PRINTING-HOUSE SQUARE — EDITORS* SALARIES — THE "NEW YORK HERALD" 
— THE HERALD OFFICE — JAMES GORDON BENNETT — CIRCULATION OP "THE HERALD" — 
THE TRIBUNE "THE TALL TOWER " — WHITELAW REID — PROFITS OF "THE TRIBUNE" — 
" THE TIMES," THE LEADING REPUBLICAN JOURNAL — " THE SUN," A LIVELY PAPER — 
CHARLES A. DANA — PROFITS OF " THE SUN " — THE EVENING PAPERS — WEEKLIES — MAGA- 
ZINES. 

The daily newspapers of New York stand at the 
head of the American press. There are 1 2 leading 
daily morning papers ; 7 leading daily newspapers ; 
10 semi-weekly ; nearly 200 weekly papers ; and about 
25 magazines and reviews published in the city. These 
have an annual circulation of over one thousand mil- 
lion copies. They are devoted to general news, poli- 
tics, literature, science, and art — in short, to every 
subject that can interest or attract the people of the 
Metropolis and the country at large. They employ 
millions of dollars and thousands of men in their pub- 
lication, and their profits vary from handsome for- 
tunes to smaller sums than their proprietors desire 
to see. 

The morning papers are those which give tone to 
the Metropolitan press, and are the models after 
which the journals of other American cities are pat- 
terned. The principal are, the Herald, Tribune^ 
Times, World, and Sun in English, the Staats Zeitmig 
in German, and the Courier des Etats Unis in French. 
Some of these papers are the private property of 



THE NEW YORK DAILIES. 593 

their publishers, while others are owned by joint-stock 
companies. 

The management of the daily newspapers is admi- 
rably systematized, and its various departments are 
conducted with the regularity and precision of clock- 
work. Each paper is in charge of an editor-in-chief, 
who controls its general policy, and assigns his vari- 
ous assistants their respective tasks. He is respon- 
sible to the proprietor and to the public for the course 
of the journal, and sees that the work in the various 
departments is prompdy and faithfully performed. 
The night editor occupies one of the most responsible 
positions in the office. He takes charge of the paper 
about seven or eight o'clock in the evening, and con- 
trols it until it goes to press, about three or four 
o'clock in the morning. He receives and edits the 
telegraphic news, and the reports of the various 
reporters, decides what shall or shall not appear in 
the paper, a task which often requires the nicest tact 
and good judgment, and sees that the journal is prop- 
erly put to press. Where important news is expected 
he often holds the paper back until daylight. The 
foreign editor has charge of the correspondence from 
Europe and other countries, and generally writes the 
editorials relating to matters abroad. The financial 
editor prepares the financial reports showing the daily 
state of the money market, and writes the articles 
which appear in the paper relating to such matters. 
His posidon is one of great responsibility and impor- 
tance, as he must be thoroughly informed of the prog- 
ress of events, not only in New York, but in the vari- 
ous monetary centres of this country and Europe. He 
38 



594 NEW YORK. 

plays no small part in shaping the financial policy of 
the country, and largely influences the opinions of his 
readers. His duties brlnof him in constant contact 
with the leading bankers and brokers of the country, 
and afford him many opportunities of making money 
apart from his salary. The city editor has charge of 
all the local news of the paper, and of the reporters 
and their work. The leading dailies employ from 
twelve to thirty or forty reporters, and expend large 
sums In the collection of news. The reporters pre- 
sent written accounts of their observations to the city 
editor, who revises them and puts them in proper 
shape for the paper. He assigns each reporter his 
special duties ever}'' morning, noting them down in a 
book kept for that purpose. Special reporters are 
assigned to duty in Brooklyn, Jersey City, Newark, 
and the surrounding towns, to the law and police 
courts, public meetings, conventions, parades, churches, 
lectures, and, In short, to every source from which news 
can be drawn. Sometimes very little work is to be 
done ; at others the whole force of the office is busy, 
and extra help has to be engaged. There are also 
musical and dramatic critics, who write the reports of 
the prominent performances at the various places of 
amusements, and a literary editor, who reviews the 
publications sent to the paper for notice, and gets up 
the literary news. 

Each daily is in charge of a publisher, who attends 
to the printing-office, the press-room, the counting- 
room, and the various matters connected with the 
practical work of getting out a newspaper. He man- 



EDITORS SALARIES. 595 

ages all Its financial matters, and upon his energy de- 
pends the pecuniary success of the journal. 

Almost all the leading morning and evening dailies 
are located In large buildings in and near Printino-- 
House Square, as the triangular place the east side 
of the City Hall Park at the north end of Park row 
Is called. In the centre of the open space Is a bronze 
statue of Benjamin Franklin, erected by the printers 
of New York ; and around the so-called square are a 
number of restaurants and drinking saloons, which 
are kept open all night, and are patronized principally 
by newspaper men, printers, and kindred spirits. 

The salaries paid by the city journals are not high. 
The leading editors, and the more prominent men on 
the various dailies, are paid from ^3,000 to ^12,000 a 
year; but, considering the amount and the character 
of the work done, the pay Is not large. As the most 
of these are married men, and the cost of living In 
the Metropolis is high, newspaper men, even with 
large salaries, rarely have an opportunity to put 
by much for a rainy day. The large salaries are 
very few in number, however — scarcely half a dozen 
in the whole city — and the majority of newspaper men 
work hard on very small wages. As a rule they die 
poor, though the proprietors of the journals which 
they have helped to make successful usually win 
large fortunes. 

At the head of the city dailies, as well as of the 
American press, stands the Neiv York Herald. It Is 
the wealthiest and most prosperous journal In the 
country, and Is the private property of Mr. James 
Gordon Bennett, who was carefully trained by his 



596 NEW YORK. 

father, the founder of the paper, as his successor. 
The story of The Herald is famiHar to every reader, 
and we need not repeat it here. It is a noble monu- 
ment to the energy, enterprise, and abihty of its foun- 
der. The Herald office is a magnificent structure of 
white marble at the corner of Broadway and Ann 
street, one of the most conspicuous locations in the 
city. The cellars are occupied by the press-rooms, 
which are connected with the composing-rooms by 
elevators, by means of which the " forms " are carried 
between the two extremes of the building. Three 
costly Hoe presses, of the latest patent, are kept 
running from midnight until seven o'clock in the 
morning, working off the daily edition. Every me- 
chanical appliance that ingenious experts can suggest, 
and abundant means procure, is furnished by the lib- 
eral proprietor, so that the means to spread The Her- 
ald far and wide shall be the best in the world. The 
business offices occupy the street floor, which is 
raised about two feet above the sidewalk, and these 
are fitted up in elegant style, and are connected with 
the editorial and composing rooms by winding stair- 
ways of iron, speaking tubes, and slides, through 
which small boxes travel up and down. The edi- 
torial rooms are on the second and third floors, and 
are the most uncomfortable in the building. They are 
dark and badly ventilated. The best lighted front on 
Broadway, and are occupied by Mr. Bennett, the man- 
aging editor, the editor in charge, and The Herald's 
secretary. On the same side of the building is the 
" Council room," a long, narrow apartment, in which 
are a desk for the chief editorial writer, a type writer, 



THE NEW YORK HERALD. 597 

and a long- table, at which the council of editors assem- 
ble at a stated hour each day to discuss the subjects 
to be treated of in the next day's paper. The com- 
posing rooms are under the Mansard roof, and con- 
tain every appliance for the prompt dispatch of the 
work of the estaolishment, and a small army of com- 
positors. 

Mr. Bennett is in every sense the manager of 
The Herald. He is not a writer, but he is an excel- 
lent business man, a good listener, a quick decider, 
and a firm supporter of those who serve him well. 
To him is due the credit of nearly all the great suc- 
cesses of the paper. He conceived and put in execu- 
tion the Stanley expedition, and almost all the great 
undertakings which have made The Herald the rep- 
resentative of American journalism. He orders the 
lengthy telegrams from abroad — the interviews with 
leading statesmen, journalists, and prominent actors 
in European affairs. He spends much of his time in 
Europe, but never loses his grip upon the manage- 
ment of The Herald, with which he is in constant 
communication by telegraph. When at home his eye 
is upon every department of the paper, and there is a 
general shaking up throughout the office. 

During Mr. Bennett's absence he is represented by 
the managing editor, Mr. Thomas Connery, one of the 
most competent newspaper men in the Metropolis. 

The circulation of The Herald is about 60,000 dur- 
ing the week, and 50,000 on Sunday. Its advertising 
business is immense, and its Sunday issue is a quin- 
tuple sheet, with from fifty-five to sixty columns of 
bona fide advertisements. It is worth a fortune to its 



598 NEW YORK. 

owner every year, and can count upon the most mag- 
nificent future of any journal in America. 

The Tribune is located in one of the loftiest build- 
ings in the city, at the corner of Nassau and Spruce 
streets, and fronts upon Printing-House Square. The 
building is of brick, was erected at a cost of ^600,000, 
and is surmounted by a lofty tower with an illumi- 
nated clock, which makes it one of the landmarks of 
the great city. The history of The Tribune has been 
an eventful one. Founded by Horace Greeley, it was, 
until his misfortunes came upon him, the most power- 
ful Republican journal in the land. After Mr. Gree- 
ley's death, he was succeeded in the chief editorship 
by Whitelaw Reid, and great changes were made in 
the paper, the new building was erected, the stock of 
the association passed into new hands, and finally Mr. 
Reid became the nominal owner of a majority of the 
shares. It is well known, however, that the real owner 
is Jay Gould, and this knowledge has greatly weak- 
ened the popular confidence in the financial articles 
of the paper, which were once one of its chief sources 
of strength. 

The Tribune is owned by an association, and repre- 
sen-ts property worth over $1,000,000. Between 1865 
and 1878 it cleared a profit of $1,637,000, which was 
paid out in dividends, or invested in property. Its 
profits average about $100,000 a year, and have done 
so for some years past. The offices of the journal are 
the most elegant in New York, the rooms being large, 
airy, and well lighted, and fitted up with every com- 
fort and convenience. The managing editor, Mr. 
Whitelaw Reid, is also the publisher of the paper. 



THE TIMES, WORLD AND SUN. 599 

He is one of the most accomplished newspaper men 
in the country, a thorough business man, and a rigid 
discipHnarian. The daily circulation of the paper is 
about 35,000, the semi-weekly edition circulates 
20,000, and the weekly about 75,000 copies. During 
Horace Greeley's life the circulation of the weekly 
was more than double the above number. 

TJie Times occupies a handsome building at the in- 
tersection of Park Row and Nassau street, and stands 
opposite TJie Tribune. It is the leading Republican 
journal of New York, and was founded by the late 
Henry J. Raymond, under whom it pursued a brilliant 
career. After Mr. Raymond's death it encountered 
severe trials at the hands of incompetent men, but 
finally the majority of the stock passed into the hands 
of Mr. George Jones, and he assumed the business 
management of the paper. Under him it has been a 
great success. Its present circulation is about 35,000 
copies on week days, and 40,000 on Sunday. Its 
annual profits are about ^200,000. 

The World Is the leading Democratic daily, and has 
comfortable quarters in Park Row, just out of Prlnt- 
ing-House Square. It is said to be controlled by Jay 
Gould, and its course in financial matters gives strong 
grounds for believing this assertion. Its circulation 
is estimated at from 15,000 to 30,000. 

The Sun claims to be the organ of the working peo- 
ple, and is independent in tone. It Is a four-page 
paper, closely printed, and a model of condensation 
of news and general informadon. It is ably edited, 
and is one of the brightest and most sparkling journals 
in the country. The editor-in-chief, and its principal 



600 



NEW YORK. 



owner, is Charles A. Dana, one of the veteran journal- 
ists of the Metropolis. The paper was founded by the 
late Moses T. Beach, about thirty years ago, but never 
achieved any reputation, and finally became so offen- 
sive that it was regarded as a nuisance. It was read 
only by sewing and servant girls and small advertisers, 
and was rapidly going down hill. In 1868 an associa- 
tion, headed by Mr. Dana, bought the paper and 
placed it under the charge of that gentleman. Mr. 
Dana at once elevated the tone of the journal, infused 
new life into it, employed an able corps of assistants, 
and soon made the new Sun one of the most popular 
and best paying journals in the city. It now occupies 

a handsome building in 
Printing-House Square, 
at the corner of Frank- 
fort street, and has the 
largest circulation of 
any city daily, an aver- 
age of 130,000 copies 
being sold every day. 
Its profits since 1869 
have run from ^99,000 
to ^164,000 (in 1876) 
yearly. The Weekly 
Sun has also a tre- 
mendous circulation. 

The evening papers 
have large circulations, 

THE EVENING MAIL BUILDING. 1 /~ 1 1 

and are very profitable. 
The principal are The Post, The Express, The Mail, 
The Telegram, and The Graphic. Tlie Post is re- 




THE EVENING PAPERS. 601 

garded as the " solldest " evening paper in the Me- 
tropolis. It is read largely by cultivated persons, and 
its book notices and reviews are considered the best 
of those of any city journal. The Express is the or- 
gan of John Kelly, who is its principal owner. The 
Mail is owned by Cyrus W. Feld, the originator of 
the Atlantic Telegraph, is a bright, pleasant paper, 
and is much liked. The Telegram is owned by James 
Gordon Bennett, and may be regarded as an evening 
edition of The Hei'ald. It is published in the same 
building. It has the largest circulation of any of the 
evening journals, is ably edited, and is a thoroughly 
good newspaper. Its local reports are a specialty. 
The Graphic is the only illustrated daily in the world, 
and is the property of a stock company. It is doing 
well, and enjoys a large popularity, because of its 
illustrations of current events. 

The weekly press embraces the prominent religiou-s, 
literary, scientific, art, and mechanical journals of the 
country. These are fairly prosperous as a rule, and 
are scattered broadcast throughout the land. 

The maorazines are numerous, and are devoted to all 

o 

subjects. Harper s and The Cejitury, formerly Scrib- 
ners, stand at the head of the list of literary journals. 



602 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XLVII. 

THE FIRE DEPARTMENT. 

THE METROPOLITAN FIRE DEPARTMENT — FIREMAN's HALL — THE BOARD OF FIRE COMMIS- 
SIONERS — DIVISIONS OP THE DEPARTMENT — THE FORCE — UNIFORM— THE ENGINE-HOUSES 
— INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS — THE ENGINES — THE HORSES — HOW THEY ARE TRAINED^ 
THE SIGNAL TOWERS — THE ALARM BOXES — FIRE DISTRICTS— THE FORCE ON DUTY — SCENES 
AT A FIRE — THE INSURANCE PATROL AND ITS DUTIES — THE " FIRE DEPARTMENT RELIEF 
FUND "—LIFE OF A NEW YORK FIREMAN — HEROIC DEEDS. 

The Metropolitan Fire Department has its head- 
quarters at No. 155 Mercer street, in the old building 
known as " Fireman's Hall." It is under the control 
of three Commissioners, appointed by the Mayor and 
the Board of Aldermen, for a period of six years. The 
President of the Board of Commissioners receives an 
annual salary of $7500, and the others $5000 each. 
The Commissioners appoint the officers and members 
of the force, make and enforce the rules for their 
government, and are responsible for the good behavior 
and efficiency of the department. 

The Fire Department is divided into three bureaux, 
as follows: — ist. The Bureau for Preventingr and Ex- 
tinguishing Fires, under the charge of the Chief of the 
Fire Department, who receives an annual salary of 
^4700 ; 2d. The Bureau for the Enforcement of 
the Laws Relatinor to the Storage and Sale of Com- 
bustibles, the head of which is the Inspector of Com- 
bustibles, whose salary is $2500 per annum; 3d. The 
Bureau for the Investigation of the Origin and Cause 



ORGANIZATION OF THE FORCE. G03 

of Fires, at the head of which is the Fire Marshal, with 
a salary of $2500 a year. 

The force consists of a chief engineer, an assistant 
engineer, 10 district engineers, and 850 officers and 
men, of whom over 700 are constantly on active duty. 
There are employed in the service of the department 
42 steam fire-engines, 4 chemical engines, and 18 
hook and ladder trucks. These are quartered in hand- 
some and conveniently arranged engine-houses dis- 
tributed throughout the city. Each company consists 
of a foreman, assistant foreman, an engineer of the 
steamer, a stoker, a driver, and 7 firemen. The men 
are carefully picked for the service, and are subjected 
to rigid examinations, for the purpose of ascertaining 
their physical and moral conditions. They are re- 
quired to be free from vicious habits, which would im- 
pair their usefulness to the force, and must come well 
recommended by citizens of known respectability. As 
a rule, they are fine-looking, hardy fellows, and take 
pride in maintaining the high reputation and efficiency 
of the department. They are uniformed in dark-blue 
cloth, with flannel shirts of the same color. The but- 
tons and metal trimmino-s of the dress are silver. 
When off duty they wear a cloth cap of peculiar shape, 
but on duty the head-gear consists of the usual stout 
leather fireman's hat. 

The officers of the force receive liberal salaries, and 
the men are paid $1200 a year, and furnished with 
quarters. All are required to give their entire time 
to the service, and no member is permitted to engage 
in any outside employment. A certain number are 
always kept on duty at each engine-house. Leaves 



604 NEW YORK. 

of absence are granted at stated periods, but an alarm 
of fire at once terminates the leave, and summons the 
fireman back to duty. In such a case he must pro- 
ceed at once to the fire, if it is one to which his com- 
pany is summoned, or to the engine-house if the fire 
is out of his district. A watch is kept at the engine- 
house, day and night, and detachments of the force 
are required to patrol their districts regularly to look 
out for fires. The most rigid discipline is maintained, 
and the force is ever on the alert and ready to move 
to the scene of danger at a moment's warning. 

Each fire company is provided with a handsome 
and conveniently-arranged engine-house, so located 
as to be central to the district to which the company 
is assigned. These buildings are generally of brick, 
but some are of brownstone. The engine-house is pro- 
vided with an engine-room and a stable on the first 
floor; a basement, in which is placed the furnace by 
means of which the building is heated, and the water 
in the engine kept hot during cold weather. The upper 
floors contain the quarters of the officers and men, 
rooms for reading and study, a drill-room, library, etc. 
Every portion of the building is kept scrupulously 
clean and neat ; the floors and wood-work are fresh 
and free from dirt, and the glass- and metal -work are 
brightly polished. In the lower room is the telegraph 
instrument and the alarm-bell, over which a watch is 
kept at all times. All the members of the force must be 
present at ten o'clock at night, when, with the excep- 
tance of the watch, they are allowed to go to bed. 
They must make their preparations to be roused at 



THE STEAM FIRE-ENGINES. 605 

any moment, and are allowed but a few seconds to 
dress when called up by an alarm. 

The steam-engines used by the department are 
made by the Amoskeag Manufacturing Company, of 
Manchester, New Hampshire, and cost the city about 
^4000 a piece. They are of the second-class in size, 
are beautiful specimens of machinery, and are very 
powerful. One of the largest of these is propelled 
by steam, and was purchased by the city in 1873. It 
weighs about four tons, and is capable of propelling 
itself at the speed of a rapid trot. When standing in 
the house, the boilers of the engines are kept supplied 
with water and steam from a heater in the basement, 
at a pressure of about seventy pounds per square 
inch. The fireplace is kept charged with kindling- 
wood and other combustibles, and it requires but one 
minute after the fire is lighted, which is done the 
instant the alarm is sounded, to raise steam enough 
for action, and to propel the large engine at a quick 
pace. 

The Chemical engines consist each of a pair of 
large cylinders, constructed on the plan of the Bab- 
cock Fire Extinguisher, mounted upon a handsome 
carriage, drawn by horses. These cylinders contain 
about 75 gallons of water each, and are capable of 
sustaining an internal pressure of 400 pounds per 
square inch. Each carriage is provided with a reel 
and several sections of hose, mounted in front of the 
cylinders and behind the driver's seat. When an 
alarm is sounded, a chemical engine is despatched 
to the scene in advance of the steamer, and often suc- 
ceeds in extincruishino- the flames before the arrival 



GOG 



NEW YORK. 



of the larger engine. In many instances, these self- 
actinof enorines have been used to orreat advantao-e in 
connection with the steamers. The department also 

employs a large 
and powerful float- 
ing-engine, placed 
on board of a 
steamboat. This 
is used for extin- 
guishing fires on 
vessels or on the 
wharves. When 
not on duty the 
steamboat lies near 
the Battery, in or- 
der to be able to 
move prompdy to 
any point in either 
river. Several en- 
gines are kept in 
reserve by the de- 
partment to re- 
place any that may 
break|down in ser- 
vice. These can be 
called out only by 
the chief engineer 
of the force. The 
Hook and Ladder 
Companiesare pro- 
vided with long trucks, steered by a wheel and gear at 
one end, for the conveyance of their ladders and 




TRAINED HORSES. G07 

Other apparatus. They are quartered in houses simi- 
lar to those of the steamer companies, and are sub- 
ject to the same discipHne. 

There are about 200 horses attached to the depart- 
ment. These are large, powerful, and spirited animals, 
and are kept with the most scrupulous care. They 
are stabled in the engine-houses, and are groomed 
every day, and fed punctually at six o'clock, morning 
and evening. If not called out during the day, they 
are exercised in the streets near the engine-house. 
They are thoroughly trained to the work before them, 
and exhibit a high degree of intelligence. They are 
kept harnessed all the time, and an automatic attach- 
ment, connected with the fire-alarm gong, releases 
them from the stalls the moment the signal is struck. 
The instant they are free they back out from their 
stalls, trot to their places at the engine, truck, or wagon, 
and stand ready to be hitched. This requires but 
three seconds, and the noble animals exhibit the great- 
est impatience to be off the moment the harnessing is 
completed. 

As soon as an alarm is given all is excitement in 
the engine-houses. The men are roused from their 
sleep at night by the sharp strokes of the heavy gong, 
hastily don their clothes, and come rushing down the 
stairs to their places at the engine. The horses back 
out to their stations, are attached to the engine, the 
fires are lighted, the doors of the building are thrown 
open, and in fifteen seconds during the day, or in one 
minute at night, from the time the alarm is sounded, 
the steamer and the hose-carriage are in the street, 
and on a sharp gallop towards the fire. 



608 NEW YORK. 

Seven lofty bell-towers are distributed throughout 
the city, and on the summit of each of these is 
placed a telegraph alarm connected with the central 
office, and in charge of a lookout. A sharp watch is 
kept over the city below by the lookouts. Being thor- 
oughly familiar with the various sections of the city, 
they can locate a fire with perfect accuracy, and, as 
soon as one is discovered, they telegraph the loca- 
tion to the central office, from which the alarm is re- 
peated to the engine-houses, each of which is con- 
nected with the central office and the police headquar- 
ters by a special telegraph line. 

For the purpose of communicating the alarms of 
fire promptly, 600 fire-alarm boxes are scattered 
throughout the city. Each box is attached to a tele- 
graph pole, or to the side of some building. The 
boxes are made of iron, are about 25 inches high, 
by 12 inches wide and 4 inches deep, and are pro- 
vided with an outer and an inner door of iron, securely 
locked. As the locks are of the same size and con- 
struction on all the boxes, one key will open any box 
throughout the city. Each member of the police force, 
the fire department, and the insurance patrol is pro- 
vided with a key, and a key is also deposited at a place 
adjacent to the alarm-box, and designated upon the 
box itself. All persons having keys are warned not 
to give an alarm unless absolutely certain there is a 
fire, and are forbidden to open the boxes except for 
the purpose of giving an alarm. They must securely 
lock the box after the signal is given, and must not 
give up their keys to any person save the proper 
authorities. Each box contains a telegraphic battery 



FIRE-ALARM BOXES. 609 

and an alarm-bell. These are placed behind the inner 
door, which is never opened except when it becomes 
necessary to repeat the alarm. Between the outer 
and inner doors is an iron catch or handle, connected 
with the battery. In giving an alarm, the outer door 
of the box is opened, and the catch is pulled down 
firmly once. This works a spring, by means of which 
a wheel attached to the battery is set in motion, and 
sounds the number of the box upon the gong at the 
central office, from which it is telegraphed to the 
engine-houses. Should it be necessary to repeat the 
alarm, the inner door is opened, and the Morse key 
of the battery is struck ten times. A lock attachment 
to the box prevents the key from being withdrawn 
after the alarm is given except by the officer of the 
department 

The city is laid off in districts for fire purposes. 
Certain companies are assigned to each district, and 
are not permitted to move beyond their proper dis- 
tricts without orders from the chief engineer or the 
central oftice. When an alarm is sounded, about one- 
sixth of the force is sent to the fire ; a second alarm 
calls out another sixth, and so on until the force 
required is obtained. When on the way to a fire, 
only the driver, the engineer, assistant engineer, and 
stoker are permitted to ride on the engine. The rest 
of the men go on foot. The foreman runs ahead of 
his engine to clear the way for it, and the driver must 
follow, but not pass him. The engines have the right 
of way in the streets, and a free passage is made for 
them, even in the most crowded streets, with a rapid- 
ity that is sometimes astonishing. Fast driving, rac- 

39 



610 NEW YORK. 

ing, and improper conduct on the part of the men, in 
going to or coming from a fire, are sharply punished. 

Upon reaching the scene of the fire, the company 
at once proceed to connect their engine with a fire- 
phig, and get a stream of water on the flames as soon 
as possible. As soon as tlie chief engineer — who is 
required to be present at all fires — arrives, he takes 
command of the force present, and issues all orders. 
Thus discipline is maintained and all confusion avoided. 
The men are trained to their work, and go at it with 
coolness and deliberation, and without any unnecessary 
shouting or noise. Orders are given briefly, and are 
promptly obeyed. The reserve force of the nearest 
police-station is always sent to a fire, and this force at 
once takes possession of the streets, keeps back the 
crowd, prevents disturbance, and allows the firemen 
room to perform their duties. This arrangement also 
ensures the safety of the property removed from the 
burning buildings to the streets. 

The life of a New York fireman is a hard one, and 
is full of danger. It not only requires the constant 
exercise of "the (greatest courage, coolness, and darine, 
but also imposes upon the fireman the greatest hard- 
ships. He is liable to be called up at any hour of the 
night, and after returning from a severe fire, worn out 
with fatigue, may be instantly summoned to another 
in a different section of the city. It sometimes hap- 
pens that for days the men are without either sleep 
or rest, and have scarcely time to partake of food. 
However great their fatigue and exhaustion may be, 
they must respond promptly to every call upon them. 
In the torrid heats of summer they drop at their posts 



LIFE OF A NEW YORK FIREMAN. 



611 



from sunstroke, and in the bitter winter weather suf- 
fer fearfully from the cold. Their hands and feet 
are sometimes frozen as they perform their duties, 
drenched through to the skin with the mercury below 
zero. They bear 
themselves gal- 
landy, however, 
and shrink from 
no exposure, no 
hardship, or dan- 
ger in the dis- 
charge of their 
duty. Scarcely 
a fire occurs but 
is made memo- 
rable by some 
heroic action by 
a member of the 
force. Now it is 
a child, a woman, 
or an aged per- 
son who is res- 
cued from some 
burninor buildino- 



at the imminent 
peril of the res- 
cuer's life; again, ^^"^ "^'^^^ fireman rescuing a child from the flames. 

a gallant fellow will dash into a smoke-enshrouded edi- 
fice m the hope of saving the lives imperilled within, 
only to lay down his own life as the price of his 
heroism. 




612 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XLVIII. 

HARRY hill's. 

THE BEST KNOWN DANCE-HOUSE IN NEW YORK — THE HALL — THE AUDIENCE — THE FEMALE 
VISITORS — THE PERFORMANCES — DANCING — HARRY HILL — THE MIDNIGHT HOUR — HARRY 
HILL ON DUTY. 

At the corner of Houston and Mulberry streets is 
a singular-looking structure with a flashy entrance, in 
front of which hangs a huge colored lantern, on which 
is the name of the proprietor of the place. This is one 
of the most noted establishments in New York, the 
well known " Harry tiill's," a favorite resort of the 
" fancy," and the best kept dance-house in the city. 
The main entrance is for men, who are charged an 
admission fee of twenty-five cents, but close by is a 
private door for women, who are admitted free. Pass- 
ing in by the public entrance, you find yourself in a 
bar-room, at the further end of which is a stairway 
leading to the principal hall. 

The hall has grown with Harry Hill's prosperity, 
and consists really of a series of rooms which have been 
added from time to time, and are of different heights. 
At one end is the bar, from which liquors and refresh- 
ments are served, and at the other, is a stage, upon 
which low variety performances and sparring matches 
are given. The room is ablaze with light and heavy 
with tobacco smoke. Tables and chairs are scattered 
through it; there is a gallery at one side, and a wine- 
room opening from it. From eight o'clock until long 



614 NEW YORK. 

after midnight the place is filled with a motley crowd. 
The women present are street-walkers ; the men 
represent all classes of society. Some are strangers 
who have merely come to see the place; others are 
out for a lark; and others still have come in company 
with, or to meet, some abandoned woman. The wo- 
men are generally in the flush of their prosperity, and 
are well dressed : the proprietor will not admit those 
who have sunk so low as to cease to be attractive. 
Some are handsome, but all bear the inevitable marks 
of their degraded calling. They drink heavily, for that 
is expected of them, their male friends paying the 
score. Among the men you will see prominent judges, 
city officials, detectives in plain clothes, men of prom- 
inence in other parts of the country, army and navy 
officers, merchants, roughs, and thieves. They join the 
women, drink with them, and too often accompany 
them to worse places. 

The performance on the stage is interspersed with 
dances in an open space in the hall, and a Punch and 
Judy show forms a popular feature of the evening's 
entertainment. Visitors are forbidden to smoke while 
dancing, and good order is enforced by the proprietor. 

Harry Hill keeps a watchful eye over the proceed- 
ings. He claims that his is a respectable establishment. 
He knows the character of his female guests, and the 
purposes for which the men come. Whatever may 
happen after a man leaves the place in company with 
a woman, he is careful that no crime shall be commit- 
ted in his house. If he sees a man whom he likes, or 
who he thinks may be of service to him, drinking 
heavily, he takes care of him, prevents him from fall- 



A "RESPECTABLE ESTABLISHMENT." 615 

incr into the hands of a street- walker, and sends him 
to^is home or his hotel. He is a powerful, determined 
man, and acts as his own policeman, repressing dis- 
order, and ejecting all who pass the bounds of out- 
ward ' propriety. He has been in the business for 
over twenty years, and is said to be very wealthy. 
Those who profess to know, estimate the profits of 
his " respectable establishment " at over $50,000 a year. 
The place is most crowded, and business is briskest, 
from eleven o'clock until an hour or two after midnight. 
Men who do not danjce, are expected to spend con- 
siderable money in liquors and refreshments for them- 
selves and the women present. The performances on 
the stage are broad and coarse, and the songs sug- 
gestivet if not openly indecent. The liquors are 
wretched, and the drinkers soon fall under their influ- 
ence. Then Harry Hill is most watchful. He is all 
over the hall, checking a quarrel between women, re- 
minding men that swearing and noisy behavior are 
not permitted, and enforcing order with a heavy hand. 
After one o'clock the women begin to drop off, ac- 
companied by their male companions, who follow them 
to the panel-houses they frequent, and where the 
foolish victim is sure to be robbed of his money and 
valuables by the woman's confederate, and perhaps 
is beaten or murdered. Harry Hill well knows the 
danger these men will encounter, but he utters no warn- 
ing word. It is not his business to save men from the 
co'^nsequences of their folly, and so long as his " re- 
spectable establishment" is not the scene of disorder, 
violence, or crime, he is indifferent. 



616 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER XLIX. 

JOHN KELLY. 

"boss KELLY " — BIRTH AND EARLY LIFE — EDUCATION — BEGINS LIFE AS A STONE-CUTTER- 
ENTERS POLITICAL LIFE — BECOMES AN ALDERMAN — ELECTED TO CONGRESS — HIS CAREER 
IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES — IS ELECTED SHERIFF — LOSS OF HIS FAMILY — 
ASSISTS IN OVERTHROWING THE TWEED RING — LEADER OF TAMMANY HALL — APPOINTED 
COMPTROLLER — REMOVAL FROM OFFICE — PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 

One of the most noted men in New York is John 
Kelly — or, as he is commonly called, "Boss Kelly" — 
the leader of the Tammany Hall Democracy of the 
Metropolis. He is credited by his friends with being- 
one of the most skilful political leaders in the country, 
and denounced by his enemies as the very embodi- 
ment of polidcal trickery and corruption. His friends 
are warmly devoted to him, and his enemies hate him 
with an intense bitterness. His sway over his partic- 
ular branch of the Democracy is absolute, and he can 
control its vote, and make or unmake political for- 
tunes with a power unsurpassed by that of any, old- 
world despot. Mr. Kelly is of Irish parentage, and is 
a native of the Fourth Ward, the classic region which 
produced his famous predecessor, " Boss Tweed." He 
received his preliminary education in the parochial 
school of St. Patrick's Cathedral, which he left at the 
age of twelve years. He subsequently attended the 
night schools established by the Board of Education, 
and displayed an ardent desire to obtain a liberal edu- 
cation. Upon leaving the Cathedral school, he was 
apprenticed to learn the trade of a grate-setter and 



THE TAMMANY BOSS. 



617 



soapstone-cutter, in which he became a proficient 
workman. He was a steady, resolute young man, 
without vicious habits, and exhibited a strong devo- 
tion to his widowed mother. In after years he edu- 




JOHN KELLY. 



cated his younger brother and established him in 
business, and extended similar assistance to his sis- 
ters, all of whom have become women of remarkable 
character. 



618 NEW YORK. 

At an early day Mr. Kelly turned his attention to 
municipal politics, and, attaching himself to the Demo- 
cratic party, soon became one of its leaders. In 1853 
he was elected a member of the Board of Aldermen, 
and in 1854 was elected to Congress, defeating the 
Hon. Mike Walsh, one of the most notorious politi- 
cians of his day. In 1854 he was reelected by an 
overwhelming majority, and received his famous title 
of " Honest John Kelly," an honor which his friends 
claim he richly deserves. He took an active part in 
-Congress, winning a good reputation as a debater 
and a hard-working member, and was regarded by 
his associates as a cool, clear-headed adviser in public 
affairs. Near the close. of his second Congressional 
term, he resigned his seat in the House of Repre- 
sentatives, and was elected Sheriff of New York by a 
large majority of the voters of the city. In 1865 he 
was reelected to the same position. He served both 
terms with credit to himself and fidelity to the city, 
making many friends among the Bench and Bar, and 
adding greatly to his popularity. During this period 
he was very prosperous in his business affairs, and 
won a handsome fortune ; but his life was saddened 
by the death of his wife in 1866, his only son in 1868, 
and his two daughters in 1870 and 1872. Thus left 
alone, his health gave way under the pressure of sor- 
row and care, and in 1869 he made a visit to Europe, 
remaining abroad nearly three years. Returning in 
1 87 1, improved in health and spirits, he entered heart- 
ily into the reform campaign which resulted in the 
complete overthrow of the Tweed Ring. His services 
were rewarded by his selection by the Democracy as 



ArPOINTED COMPTROLLER. G19 

the person most competent to reororanize the party ui 
the city on an honest and healthful basis. He accom- 
plished his task to the satisfaction of his political asso- 
ciates, and has ever since maintained his position as 
the leader of the Tammany Hall Democracy. He 
was subsequently appointed to the lucrative office of 
Comptroller of the city, from which he was recently 
removed for polidcal reasons by the Mayor. 

Mr. Kelly resides in an elegant mansion at the 
corner of Thirty-eighth street and Lexington avenue. 
He is in the prime of life, being in his fifty-ninth year. 
He is below the average height, with a stout, hardy 
frame, and a pleasant, intellectual, but unmistakably 
Irish face. He wears a full, but close-cut beard and 
mustache, of a reddish hue, with hair of the same 
color. Both beard and hair are now largely sprinkled 
with gray. He is earnest and impressive in manner, 
firm and decisive in character. Being a close student 
of books and men, he has accumulated a large fund 
of knowledge and experience. He is familiar with 
the French and German languages, has an extensive 
acquaintance with the standard literature of the age, 
and is a devoted student of political economy and 
pracdcal politics. He is rarely deceived in men, and 
is thoroughly independent in character. His enemies 
acquit him of having gained any portion of his large 
wealth by corrupt means. He has figured prominendy 
of late years in municipal. State, and nadonal politics, 
and is generally believed to have caused the elecdon 
of the late President Garfield by bringing about the 
defeat of General Hancock in New York, in the last 
presidential campaign. 



620 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER L. 

RELIGION IN NEW YORK. 

NUMBER OP CHURCHES IN NEW YORK — VALUE OP CHURCH PROPERTY — THE DUTCH REFORMED 
CHURCH — THE EPISCOPALIANS — GRACE CHURCH — ST. THOMAS's — "THE LITTLE CHURCH 
AROUND THE CORNER" — THE LUTHERANS — THE PRESBYTERIANS — THE FIFTH AVENUE 
CHURCH — THE BAPTISTS — THE METHODISTS — ST. PAUL's CHURCH — THE CONGREGATION.^L- 
ISTS — THE QUAKERS — THE UNITARIANS — THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH — ST. STEPHEN'S — 
.ST. PATRICK'S CATHEDRAL — THE JEWS — THE TEMPLE EMANU-EL — LOWER NEW YORK DES- 
TITUTE OP CHURCHES — FASHIONABLE RELIGION — STRANGERS IN CHURCH — THE MUSIC — 
PROFESSIONAL SINGERS — A TENOr's SENSATION — THE FIFTH AVENUE PttOMENADE — PEW 
RENTS — CHURCH DEBTS — RECKLESS EXTRAVAGANCE. 

There are more than five hundred churches, chapels, 
and places used for religious worship in New York, 
with seating accommodations for about 600,000 people. 
These are divided among the Orthodox Protestant de- 
nominations, the Roman Catholics, Quakers, the Greek 
Church, and the Jews. Of these, the Protestant 
churches number nearly 450, the Catholics over 40, the 
Quakers 5, the Greek Church i, and the Jews 27. 
The total value of church property in the city is about 
as follows: Protestant, ^30,000,000, .exclusive of en- 
dowments ; Catholic, $8,000,000 ; Jews, $2,000,000 ; the 
Greek Church, $10,000. Apart from their church 
property, the various denominations own numerous 
schools, hospitals, and charitable and benevolent insti- 
tutions, which swell the value of their real estate to an 
enormous figure. It is of the churches, however, that 
we propose to treat here. 

The oldest denomination in the city is the Dutch 
Reformed. It was planted here by the first settlers of 
New Amsterdam, and the church records extend back, 



THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH. 021 

unbroken, to 1639. The denomination is now very- 
strong, and possesses twenty-five churches and chapels. 
Several of these are located on Fifth avenue, and are 
among the handsomest in the city. The " Holland 
Church," at the corner of Fifth avenue and 29th street, 
is a fine edifice of Vermont marble, in the Romanesque 
style, and is surmounted by a tall spire, crowned with 
a gilt weather vane. The " Collegiate Church," at the 
corner of Fifth avenue and 48th street, is an imposing 
structure of brownstone, in the modernized Gothic 
style, and one of the most beautiful churches in the; 
city. 

Next in order of age is the Protestant Episcopal 
Church, the successor of the Church of England, intro- 
duced into the city by the English when they obtained 
possession of the colony. It now possesses ninety- 
four churches and chapels, a general Theological Semi- 
nar)^ and a number of charitable and benevolent Insti- 
tutions, schools, etc. The principal church edifice is 
Trinity, which is described in another chapter. Grace 
Church, on Broadway, at the corner of loth street, is, 
next to Trinity, the wealthiest Episcopal Church in New 
York. It is a handsome Gothic structure, built of white 
granite, and occupies one of the best positions in the 
city. The interior is richly decorated, and the stained 
glass windows are very beautiful. There are two 
organs in the church, connected by electricity, an 
arranofement which enables the orQ^anist to use either 
or both from a single key board. The music is very 
fine, the choir being made up of celebrated professional 
vocalists. The Rector, Dr. Potter, is one of the most 
eloquent and effective pulpit orators in the Metropolis, 



022 



NEW YORK. 



and large congreg-ations assemble to hear him. At 
the morning service a greater display of wealth and 

fashion is presented 
here than at any other 
city church. Grace 
Church has been the 
scene of more fashion- 
able weddings and 
funerals than any 
other place of wor- 
ship. Until about a 
year ago these cere- 
monies were presided 
over by the famous 
Sexton Brov/n, per- 
haps the most noted 
man connected with 
the parish. He was a 




REV. HENRY C. POTTER, D.D. 



shrewd, long-headed fellow, this same Brown, and knew 
more of New York society than any man of his day. 
The congregation have sadly missed him. Peace to 
his ashes. 

St. Thomas's Church, at the corner of Fifth avenue 
and 53d street, ranks next to Grace, as a fashionable 
place of worship. It is very massive, and is built of 
brownstone, in a m.ixed style of architecture, in which 
the early English predominates. Its tower contains a 
fine chime of bells. 'The interior is extremely beauti- 
ful, though somewhat dark, and is decorated with 
superb frescoes by John La Farge and sculptures by 
A. St. Gauden. There are two organs, connected by 
electricity, and the music, which is among the best in 



the city, is under the direction of the famous organist, 
George WilHam Warren. St. Thomas's is rapidly sur- 
passing Grace Church in the number of its fashionable 
weddings and funerals, and is noted for the wealth and 
magnificent display of its congregation. 

St, Bartholomew's and the Holy Trinity, which 
almost face each other on Madison avenue, the former 
being at the corner of 44th street, and the latter at the 
corner of 42d street, are beautiful edifices, and are 
sumptuously fitted up and decorated internally. The 
Church of the Heavenly Rest, on Fifth avenue, near 
the Windsor Hotel, is handsomely decorated with 
frescoes. Over the street entrance stand four im- 
mense angels sounding trumpets. 

One of the most noted Episcopal places of worship 
is the Church of the Transfiguration, on 29th street, east 
of Fifth avenue. It is popularly known as "The Little 
Church Around the Corner," It is a pretty, rambling 
sort of structure, built of brownstone, beautifully orna- 
mented and decorated within, and of a size that by no 
means merits the popular title given it. A pretty 
churchyard, shaded by fine trees and laid off with 
o-reen sward lies between the church and the street, 
and luxuriant vines clamber over the edifice, giving to 
the place a charming rural aspect. The congregation 
is a very fashionable one, and the services are con- 
ducted upon an elaborate scale. The popular name 
of the church originated in this way: Some years ago, 
Mr. George Holland, an old and popular actor, died in 
New York, and his friends made application to the 
Rector of the Church of the Atonement, in Madison 
avenue, to conduct the funeral services in that church. 



624 NEW YORK. 

They were met with a point-blank refusal, but at the 
same time the Rector intimated that there was "a little 
church around the corner, where they sometimes held 
funeral services for actors." Joseph Jefferson, who 
was one of the parties making this request, exclaimed, 
impulsively, "Then God bless the little church around 
the corner, say I." Application was made to the 
Rector of "the little church," and the funeral services 
were held there. Since then, several actors have been 
buried from it. The church-ofoine members of the 
dramatic profession attend it, and contribute liberally 
to its support. 

St. Augustine's Chapel, in Houston street, east of 
the Bowery, is a part of Trinity Parish. It is built of 
brownstone, in the Gothic style, and its steeple is sur- 
mounted by a crystal cross, which on Sunday and 
special nights is illumined by gas jets placed within it, 
and can be seen shining out high over the dark city, a 
blessed symbol of hope and cheer. 

The other prominent Episcopal churches are St. 
George's, Ascension, Calvary, St. Paul's, St. John's, 
Trinity Chapel, and St. Peter's. 

The Lutheran Church ranks third in the order of 
age. The city contained many members of this faith 
at the time of its capture by the English, and by 1 702 
they had grown strong enough to build their first 
church. They are now numerous, and constitute a 
very wealthy body, possessing twenty-one churches. 

The Presbyterians organized their first society in 
1 71 6, and for three years were allowed by the author- 
ities to worship in the Town Hall. Previous to this 
they were subjected to a petty persecution by the 



THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH. 



625 



Established Church, one of their ministers being fined, 
in 1707, for exercising- the functions of his office, and 
were obhged to meet in private houses. In 1719 tlie 
first Presbyterian church was built, in Wall street near 
Broadway. At present they constitute one of the 
strongest and weal- 
th! est denomina- 
tions in the city, and 
besides a number 
of noble benevo- 
lent and charitable 
institutions, own 
ninety-four church- 
es, divided among 
the various branch- 
es of the denomina- 
tion, as follows: 
Presbyterian 
proper, seventy ; 
United Presbyte- 
rian, eight; Re- 
formed Presbyterian, seven ; Congregationalist, nine. 
The Fifth avenue Presbyterian Church, at the corner 
of Fifth avenue and 55th street, is the largest and finest 
Presbyterian Church in the city. It is built of brown- 
stone, in the French Gothic style, and its tower is the 
highest in New York. The interior is very beautiful, 
and is elaborately and magnificently decorated. The 
floor slopes from the entrance to the pulpit, giving to 
every seat a commanding view of the preacher. The 
church cost over a million of dollars, and is paid for. 
The congregation is large and enormously wealthy, 

40 




REV. JOHN HALL, D.D. 



626 



NEW YORK. 



numbering more bank presidents and insurance men 
than any similar body in the Union. The pastor is the 
Rev. Dr. John Hall, one of the most gifted pulpit orators 
of the day. He is a man of gigantic frame, great 
scholarship, and wonderful capacity for work. He 
hates sensationalism, and gives the people plain and 
practical sermons. The church is always crowded 
when he preaches. 

Like the Presbyte- 
rians the Baptists had 
to contend with per- 
secution in their ef- 
forts to establish 
themselves in New 
York. They were 
treated with great 
harshness by the civil 
authorities and the 
Established Church, 
and were often 
oblieed to immerse 
their converts by 
night, to avoid arrest. 
It was not until 1725 
that they erected their first church, in what is now 
Gold street. Since then they have grown and pros- 
pered, and are now very numerous and wealthy, hav- 
ing fifty churches in the city. The First Church, in 
East 39th street, is a wealthy organization, with a hand- 
some edifice. The Fifth avenue Baptist Church, in 
West 46th street, is the leading church of this denomi- 
nation, and possesses the best arranged church edi- 




RBV. THOMAS ARMITAGE, D.D. 



THE METHODIST CHURCH. 



627 



fice and the wealthiest congregation. The pastor is 
the Rev. Dr. Thomas Armitao^e, one of the most learn- 
ed and eloquent divines of the Baptist faith. 

The Methodists rank among the oldest denomina- 
tions in the city, having been organized in 1766, by 
Philip Embury, a local preacher from Ireland, who 
held religious services in his own house, in what 
is now Park Place. Only half a dozen persons at- 
tended his first ministrations, but the society grew 
rapidly, and in 1768 the Methodists erected their first 
church, in John street, which venerable edifice is still 
standing. Since then their growth has been rapid, and 
they now have sixty churches and chapels, with a mem- 
bership of about 
20,000, and church 
property valued at 
several millions. The 
principal church is St. 
Paul's, at the corner of 
Fourth avenue and 
2 2d street. It is a fine 
structure of white 
marble, in the Roman- 
esque style, with a 
Rectory adjoining it, 
of the same material. 
Both buildings were ^ 
the gift of the late 
Daniel Drew to the 
church. 




KKV. W. M. TAYLOB, D.D. 



The Congregationalists have been included among 
the Presbyterians, in speaking of that body. They 



628 



NEW YORK. 



have nine churches, the principal of which is the Taber- 
nacle, at the corner of Sixth avenue and 34th street. 
It is a handsome brownstone building, and is under the 
pastoral care of the Rev. Dr. W. M. Taylor, an elo- 
quent divine. 

The Friends or Quakers, came into the city at a 
very early day. They built their first meeting house 
in 1703, and at present own five places of worship, 
besides other valuable property. 

The Unitarians built their first church in 1819. They* 
now have five churches. The principal are "All Souls," 
on Fourth avenue, just above Union Square, and the 
Church of the Messiah, at the corner of Park avenue 
and 34th street. The latter is under the charge of the 

Rev. Robert Coll- 
yer, formerly of 
Chicago, one of the 
most brilliant pul- 
pit orators of this 
or any other coun- 
try. 

The Roman 
Catholic Church is 
the strongest in the 

o 

city, in point of 
numbers, its 
strength lying in 
the vast Irish and 
other foreign popu- 
lations of New 
York. The first church of this denomination stood on 
the site of the present St. Peter's, at the corner of Bar- 




RBV. ROBERT COLLYBR. 



THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. 629 

clay and Church street, and was built in 1786. In 181 5 
St. Patrick's Cathedral, at the corner of Mott and Prince 
streets, was built, and was the Cathedral of the diocese 
until the completion of the new Cathedral, on Fifth ave- 
nue. At present the wealth of the Church in New 
York is very great. There are fifty-five Catholic 
Churches and chapels in the city, besides a number of 
benevolent and charitable institutions, schools, etc. 
The Church authorities have been unusually fortunate 
in their purchases of real estate, w4iich have largely 
increased in value, and besides this have received con- 
stant and liberal assistance in the shape of grants of 
money from the city. 

Though the great body of Roman Catholics in New 
York consists of their poorer and more wretched 
classes, the church includes among its membership a 
large class of wealthy and cultivated citizens and their 
families. Almost the only churches in the poorer and 
more crowded sections of the city are Catholic, and 
this immense field is being cultivated by them with an 
energy and zeal well worthy of imitation. A number 
of the churches are located in the most desirable por- 
tions of the city, and are attended by wealthy and fash- 
ionable congregations. They are very handsome, and 
the music is exquisite. The most fashionable church, 
as well as one of the most beautiful, is St. Stephen's, 
on 28th street, between Third and Lexington avenues, 
and extending through the block to 29th street. The 
interior is beautifully decorated with frescoes, and the 
altar, of pure white marble, is one of the most magnifi- 
cent in the Union. The altar-piece, representing the 
Crucifixion, is a noble work of art, and the music the 



630 NEW YORK. 

best in the city.* The church will seat 4000 people, 
and is always crowded. Father McGlynn, the rector, 
is one of the most gifted pulpit orators in the city. 

The new St. Patrick's Cathedral is the grandest 
church edifice in America. It occupies the entire 
square bounded by Fifth and Madison avenues, and 
50th and 51st streets, and stands on the highest and 
most commanding site on the avenue. It was begun 
by Archbishop Hughes, in 1858, and was dedicated by 
the Cardinal Archbishop McCloskey, on the 25th of 
May, 1879. 

The foundations of the Cathedral rest upon a bed 
of solid rock,- in which excavations therefor had to be 
made. The first course is of Maine granite, dressed 
with the chisel, and from this springs a pure Gothic 
superstructure, similar in architecture to the style 
adopted in Europe during the thirteenth and fourteenth 
centuries. The building is three hundred and thirty- 
two feet in length, one hundred and thirty-two feet 
broad in the nave and choir, and one hundred and 
seventy-four feet broad at the transepts. It is con- 
structed of white marble, from the Pleasantville quar- 
ries, in Westchester County. Like the Cathedrals at 
Amiens, Rouen, and Cologne, St. Patrick's is free from 
heaviness and over-ornamentation. The Fifth ave- 
nue front consists of a central gable, one hundred and 
fifty-six feet in height, with towers and spires. The 
design of the grand portal contemplates the statues of 
the twelve apostles to be placed within it. The interior 
of the Cathedral is as fine as its exterior. The massive 
columns which support the roof are of white stone, 
thirty-five feet in height, and clustered, having a com- 



ST. Patrick's cathedral. 631 

bined diameter of five feet. The ceiling is groined, 
with richly moulded ribs and foliated bosses. The 
springing line of the ceiling is seventy-seven feet from 
the floor. The organ gallery is in the nave, between 
the towers. The high altar is forty feet high, and the 
table was constructed in Italy, of the purest marble, 
and inlaid with semi-precious stones. The bas-reliefs 
on the panels have for their subjects the Divine Pas- 
sion. The tabernacle over the altar is of white mar- 
ble, decorated with Roman mosaics and precious stones, 
and with a door of gilt bronze. The altar of the 
Blessed Virgin is at the eastern end of the north side 
aisle of the Sanctuary, and is of carved French walnut. 
The Sacristry is placed in the east of the south aisle 
of the Sanctuary, and St. Joseph's altar, of bronze and 
mosaic, is in front of it. The altar of the Sacred Heart 
' is of bronze. The Cardinal's throne is on the gospel 
(light) side of the altar, and is of Gothic design. The 
altar of the Holy Family is of white Tennessee mar- 
ble, and the reredos of Caen stone ; over the altar 
hangs a painting of the Holy Family, by Costazzini. 
The Cathedral is lighted by seventy windows, thirty- 
seven of which are memorial windows. They were 
mainly made at Chartres, France, cost about ^100,000, 
and were presented by parishes and individuals in va- 
rious parts of the country. The total cost of the Ca- 
thedral, up to the present time, has been a litde over 
^2,000,000. It is estimated that ^500,000 more will 
be needed to complete it. 

The exterior of the building is to be richly orna- 
mented with statues. Two towers are yet to be built 
at the northern and southern anHes of the Fifth ave- 

O 




ST. PATRICK'S CATHEDRAL. 



THE TEMPLE EMANU-EL. G33 

nue front. They will be three hundred and twenty- 
eight feet in height, from the ground to the summit of 
the cross on each. For a distance of one hundred and 
thirty-six feet from the ground they will be square In 
shape, after which they will assume the form of oc- 
tagonal lanterns for fifty-four feet more, and above 
these will soar beautiful spires for a further distance 
of one hundred and thirty-eight feet. The towers and 
spires will be adorned with buttresses, niches contain- 
ing statues, and pinnacles, which will conceal the 
change from the square to the octagon. 

The Jews have been In New York since the earliest 
days of the colony, and among the Dutch settlers found 
tolerance and protection. They have multiplied rap- 
idly, and now constitute one of the largest and wealth- 
iest classes in the city. They have twenty-seven syna- 
gogues, and own several large and well-supported in- 
stitutions for the relief of the unfortunate of their own 
faith. They have two splendid synagogues on Lexing- 
ton avenue, but their principal place of worship is the 
Temple Emanu-el, at the corner of Fifth avenue and 
43d street. This is one of the most magnificent struc- 
tures in New York, and the noblest specimen of Sara- 
cenic architecture on the Western Continent. It Is 
built of brown and yellow sandstone, with the roof of 
alternate lines of red and black tiles. The centre of 
the fagade on Fifth avenue, containing the main en- 
trance, is flanked by two minarets, beautifully carv^ed 
in open work. Five large doors lead into the vesti- 
bule, from which one passes into the interior, which Is a 
rich mass of Oriental coloring. 

Very few churches are to be found in the lower part 



634 NEW YORK. 

of the city, almost all being located above Canal street. 
Trinity, St. Paul's, and one or two others, are all that 
supply the religious wants of the dwellers in this sec- 
tion. One ward in this region, containing 30,000 
people, has not a single place of worship in it, with the 
exception of a Chinese Joss house, which is kept, by its 
votaries, in the background. 

The morning services at the various churches, 
especially at the more fashionable temples, brings out 
a goodly crowd of worshipers, and it is difficult to 
obtain a seat. At the fashionable churches the lady 
members of the congregations have a bad habit of wait- 
ing until the services have begun before putting in an 
appearance. Then they sail up the aisles, to their softly 
cushioned pews, arrayed in all the finery to which they 
have devoted so much attention during the past week. 
These late entrances disturb the worshipers, but they 
enable the ladies to show off their toilets, and that, 
after all, is what the churches are for, so far as they 
are concerned. Strangers are expected to stand in 
the aisles near the door, and wait until the sexton can 
show them to seats. A certain fashionable sexton is 
said to have derived quite a snug income from the 
"tips" bestowed upon him by visitors wishing to obtain 
eligible seats. A good story is told of a certain high- 
toned church. A gentleman had been standing in the 
main aisle during the greater part of the service, vainly 
waiting for the sexton to show him to a seat. At last, 
finding the process tiresome, he leaned over, and, in a 
whisper, asked the occupant of a pew in which there 
were several vacant seats, "What church is this?" 
"Christ's," was the whispered reply. "Is He at home, 



A FASHIONABLE TENOR'S SENSATION. 635 

to-day?" asked the stranger. The pew owner took 
the hint, and rising, asked the inquirer into his pew. 

The music at the fashionable churches is superb. 
The organist is a professor of high reputation, and tlie 
choir is made up of professional singers, who devote 
themselves to concerts and public amusements on 
secular days. In some of the highest toned temples 
you will find among the male singers persons whom 
you may have seen at some of the variety or concert 
halls during the week. The "Music Committee" ask 
only for good voices, and do not trouble themselves 
about the daily lives of the choristers. When the 
sermon begins the choir curtains are drawn, and 
the singers, who are not employed to listen to the 
sermon, seek rest from their fatigues in flirting or 
reading, or compose themselves for a peaceful nap. 
Not many years ago, the tenor of one of the best 
choirs in the city was also the popular singer in a 
Bowery "Free and Easy." He had a magnificent 
voice, and his secular engagements were constant and 
profitable, often keeping him in the concert halls all 
through Saturday night, and until the small hours of 
Sunday morning. The tenor, unfortimately, had a 
weakness for his glass, and it was a constant wonder 
to his friends that he contrived to get his head clear 
enough by church time on Sunday morning to take his 

place in the choir of St. 's Church. For a long 

while, however, he managed to fill both engagements 
creditably, but at length misfortune overtook him. 
He had sung, with great eclat, at the "Free and 
Easy" on Saturday night, and had gotten through 
the morninor service at church, as far as the sermon, 



636 NEW YORK. 

with equal credit. The eloquence of the preacher* 
lulled him into a profound slumber, and all through 
the sermon he was dreaming of the Bowery and the 
jolly crowd assembled to hear him render his great 
song of " Muldoon." The sermon over, he was roused 
from his dreams by a fellow member of the choir, who 
whispered that they were waiting for his solo. Still 
half asleep, and with his head yet full of the saloon 
and the applause awaiting him, he staggered to the 
choir rail, and looking about him, broke out, lustily: — 

" Come and see me, I'll trate ye dacent, 
I'll make ye drunk, I'll fill yer can ; 
Sure, when I walk the strate, 
Says each one I mate, 
There goes Muldoon ; he's a solid man." 

The reader may picture to himself the sensation the 
tenor's solo produced in the church. 

It is the custom for church goers on Sunday morn- 
ing to promenade Fifth avenue after service. At such 
times the street is uncomfortably crowded, but the dis- 
play of fashionable costumes is worth seeing. On 
Easter Sunday, if the weather be fine, the ladies are 
out in all the glory of new toilets, one of the most in- 
exorable laws of fashion requiring such displays. 
Then the Fifth avenue temples pour out vast throngs 
of these magnificently dressed creatures, and the crowd 
is heavily reinforced by the congregations of churches 
not on the avenue, all bent on seeing and being seen. 

The churches are supported mainly by the money 
received from the rents of the pews. Few persons not 
connected with some fashionable place of worship can 
form any idea of the amount of money spent in this 
way. The annual rental of some pews is equal to the 



CHURCH DEBTS. 637 

house rent of a family of moderate means. The in- 
come derived from the pews is obtained in various ways 
in the different churches. In some, nearly all the pews 
are sold, and the owners pay a certain percentage of 
the valuation annually ; in others, pews are sold at auc- 
tion, to the highest bidder; but most of the churches have 
an annual rental of the pews. In the fashionable 
churches the rents run from $500 to $700, and in some 
even higher rents are demanded. 

Many of the leading churches of the city are heavily 
encumbered with debt. Some time since the New 
York Tribune published a list of some fifty odd churches, 
giving the amount of the mortgage resting upon each. 
These mortgages ran from ^9000 to ^471,000, and 
none were registered prior to 1869. They footed up 
a grand total of nearly two million and a half dollars. 

The recklessness with which the city churches rush 
into debt is appalling. No other class of real estate in 
New York is so heavily incumbered as that of its 
religious associations ; and this in spite of the fact that 
no sort of property has a more uncertain tenure of its 
income, the whole depending in a large measure on the 
popularity of the ministers in charge, and on the good 
will and prosperity of the members. Nearly the whole 
of the debts thus created is for the purpose of enlarg- 
ing the churches or constructing new ones. Scarcely 
any of the congregations go in debt for the purpose of 
increasing the minister's salary, or to enlarge the con- 
tributions to missionary funds or charitable enterprises. 
All is for show. Old fashioned, comfortable churches, 
free from debt, are torn down, or sold, and new edi- 
fices, rich and tosdy in every detail, are erected. A 



638 NEW YORK. 

little money is advanced, the church is plastered over 
with mortgages, and the next generation is left to pay 
for the vanity of the present. Sometimes the mortgage 
is paid, but too often the reverse is the case. The 
mortgage is foreclosed, the beautiful temple is sold, and 
perhaps is converted into a theatre, concert hall, livery 
stable or factory. 

So handsome are the churches, as a rule, so con- 
spicuously do wealth and fashion thrust themselves 
forward on all sides, that the poor rarely seek them. 
They are too fine, and the pride of the honest poor 
man will not permit him to take his place in a house of 
worship where he is certain to be looked coldly upon 
and made to feel his lack of worldly goods. Fashion 
and wealth rule with iron hands, even in the house of 
God, and in these gorgeous temples the class who 
were nearest and dearest to the Master's heart have 
no place. 



THE OLD BOWERY. 639 



CHAPTER LI. 

ALONG THE BOWERY. 

ORIGIN OF THE NAME OF THE STREET — NOTABLE BUILDINGS — CHEAP RETAIL SHOPS — BEER 
SALOONS— CONCERT HALLS — THE JEWS — THE BOWERY BECOMING GERMANIZED — THE BOW- 
ERY IN BY-GONE DAYS — THE " BOWERY BOY " — THE "bOWERY GIRL " — A GORGEOUS CREA- 
TURE — SUNDAY IN THE BOWERY — NIGHT SCENES IN THE BOWERY — THE STREBT-WALKERS — 
THE GERMAN BEER GARDENS — THE SHOOTING-GALLERIES — THE THEATRES. 

Next to Broadway, the Bowery is the most charac- 
teristic street in New York. It derives its name from 
the fact that, during the days of the Dutch, it was Hned 
with the " boweries " or farms of the early settlers, 
being at that time merely a country road. It com- 
mences at Chatham Square, and extends in a straight 
line to Eiofhth street, where the Third and Fourth ave- 
nues beein. But few buildinofs of note are to be found 
along its extent. These are the Thalia Theatre, for- 
merly known as ** The Old Bowery," the Windsor 
Theatre, the Bowery and Dry-Dock Savings Banks. 
The last building is an elegant structure of yellow 
sandstone, in the Gothic style of architecture. As a 
rule the houses on the Bowery are from two to three 
stories in height, and are plain and unattractive. They 
are devoted mainly to retail stores of the cheap order, 
one peculiarity of which is that about half the stock 
is displayed on the sidewalks. Soda fountains, pea- 
nut and fruit-stands impede the progress of the pas- 
sers-by at every step, and street-venders of all kinds 
hawk their wares along the entire course of the street. 
The Bowery is crowded day and night with a motley 



640 



NEW YORK. 



throng ; several lines of street-cars traverse It ; and 
the trains of the Elevated Railroad speed rapidly by 
overhead. The street is the paradise of beer saloons, 




'KV.WVvK'iVa«'i'a^."a'>.. 



THE OLD BOWERY THEATRB. 



bar-rooms, concert and dance halls, cheap theatres, 
and low-class shows. The Jews are well represented 
in the retail stores, and seem to do well. The popula- 



THE BOWERY BOYS. 641 

tion of the street is largely German, and at night and 
on holiday occasions the Bowery constitutes the favor- 
ite resort of the pleasure-seekers of this nationality. 
German restaurants, beer saloons and gardens, thea- 
tres and music halls, abound here ; the signs are Ger- 
man, and the dishes in the eating-houses the same. 
You may go for squares sometimes without hearing 
an English word spoken. 

Half a century ago the Bowery was the chosen 
haunt of the ruffian element of New York. It was 
shunned by respectable people, and given over to the 
" Bowery Boys," rowdy firemen, thieves, and women 
of doubtful or disreputable character. The " Bowery 
Boy " was an institution of Old New York, and lives yet 
in the memory of many of the veteran citizens. Chan- 
frau, the actor, has preserved a faithful picture of him 
in his " Mose." With his red shirt, stunning necktie, 
black pants carefully tucked into his boots, his coat on 
his arm, his tall hat, ornamented with a broad band of 
crape, set one-sided on his carefully soaped locks, and 
his face smooth shaven, he paraded the Bowery with 
the pride of a lord of the universe. His attire was 
simplicity itself, but of a striking kind. Jewelry he 
avoided as low and vulgar, his only ornament being a 
gold or brass figure representing the number of the 
fire " mersheen " with which he ran. This he wore in 
his shirt-front, and he regarded it with the fondest 
pride. He stood on his dignity, and it fared ill with 
the person who dared to insult him. A fight was his 
glory, and it must be confessed he bore himself gal- 
landy, and fought squarely. He was a rough, but 
not a bully ; he never made war upon women and 
41 



G42 NEW YORK. 

children, or took delight in breaking up a peaceful, 
picnic or dance, but was ever ready to defend the 
helpless, especially the fair sex. As a rule, he worked 
steadily at butchering or some other trade during the 
week, and paid his way as he went. His diversions 
were an evening at the Old Bowery Theatre, a run to 
a fire, or a fight, all of which were highly enjoyed. 
A dog-fight on the end of the wharves on Sunday 
morning was, perhaps, his greatest pleasure. He 
was devoted to his girl, and kept a jealous watch over 
her, and under his protection she was safe from insult 
or harm. 

The original " Bowery Girl " must have been made 
of a rib of the original " Bowery Boy," so exactly was 
she his counterpart. There was this difference, how- 
ever, between them. While he affected a severely 
simple style of dress, she loved to deck herself out in 
all the glories of dry-goods and millinery. A more 
gorgeous creature could not be found. Her janty 
bonnet, set rakishly on one side of her head, bloomed 
in all the colors of the rainbow; her short skirts showed 
the neatest-turned ankle and the trimmest little foot, 
with a perfectly marvellous stocking. And then her 
air — as, with parasol poised in one hand, the other 
arm swinging to the motion of her body, her dainty 
nose pointing upward, she passed at a quick gait pe- 
culiar to herself along the Bowery, or through Chat- 
ham square — it was the perfection of East Side poetry. 
No wonder that the " Bowery Boy " bowed down be- 
fore her, and worshipped. She was irresistible. Both 
are beings of the past. The bar-room loafer, the 



, THE BOWERY IN ITS GLORY. 643 

sneak-thief, the red-faced bully, and the half-drunken 
street-walker have taken their places. 

The Sunday law is a dead letter in the Bowery. 
Beer saloons, rum-shops, concert and dance halls, are 
in full blast. The German element is out in force. 
The Atlantic Garden is thronged, and the clink of 
beer-glasses mingles sharply with the strains of the 
orchestra. The cheap clothing stores and the pawn- 
shops drive a thriving trade, and the vile dens of vice 
which line the lower part of the street are crowded 
with their wretched habitues. All along the street 
you hear the sharp crack of the rifles in the shooting- 
galleries. The sidewalks are full, the street cars are 
overcrowded, and the elevated trains are jammed. 

To see the Bowery in its glory, one must visit it at 
niM-it. It is a blaze of lig^ht from one end to the other. 
The saloons, theatres, concert halls, and " free-and- 
easys," are gayly ornamented with lamps of all colors, 
and the lig-hts of the street-venders oive to the side- 
walks the appearance of a general illumination. The 
concert halls are filled, and sounds of music and shouts 
of laughter float out from them into the street. 
Wretched transparencies mark the entrances to the 
low dives, in and out of which a steady throng pours. 
The pavements are full of abandoned women, boldly 
plying their trade, regardless of the police, who are 
out in force along the thoroughfare. Turn into any 
of the concert or dance halls, and you will find the 
majority of the company present young men and boys, 
and girls not out of their teens. The larger German 
music halls have the only respectable audiences to be 
found in the Bowery. To these the children of the 



644 NEW YORK. 

Fatherland resort in great numbers to enjoy their 
beer and listen to the music. The husband and father 
takes his wife and family along with him, and the pleas- 
ure here is innocent and orderly. The shooting-gal- 
leries are a feature of the streets, and are brighdy 
lighted and open to the sidewalk. They are orna- 
mented with targets consisting of gaudily-painted fig- 
ures, and offer innumerable inducements to passers- 
by to try their skill. The theatres are brilliant with 
transparencies and illuminated glass signs, and are 
well filled with pleasure-seekers. The admission is 
cheap, and the performances adapted to the tastes of 
their patrons. Men and women in all stages of intox- 
ication stagger along the pavements, and here and 
there is a sturdy policeman with some offender in his 
crrasp, hastening on to the station-house. Vice offers 
every inducement to its votaries, and the devil's work 
is done nightly upon a grand scale in the Bowery. 
The horse-cars, with their colored lights and jingling 
bells, and the rapidly rushing elevated trains over- 
head, give an air of briskness to the street. The 
scene is gay and animated, but must be witnessed to 
be properly appreciated. 



THE FIRST-CLASS HOTELS, 645 



CHAPTER LII. 

NEW YORK HOTELS. 

GREAT NUMBER OP HOTELS IN NEW YORK — FIRST-CLASS HOTELS — THE AMERICAN AND EURO- 
PEAN PLANS — THE ASTOR HOUSE — THE ST. NICHOLAS — THE METROPOLITAN — THE GRAND 
CENTRAL — THE NEW YORK — THE FIFTH AVENUE — THE WINDSOR — OTHER HOTELS — INTE- 
RIOR ARRANGEMENTS — NIGHT SCENES — COST OP FURNISHING A HOTEL — DEAD BEATS — 
HOW THE DETECTIVES WATCH SUSPICIOUS CHARACTERS. 

No city in the world surpasses New York in the 
number and excellence of its hotels. There are said 
to be about 700 hotels of all grades in the Metropolis, 
the majority of which do a profitable business, and some 
of which return large fortunes to their proprietors. 

The first-class hotels are magnificent structures of 
marble, brownstone, iron, or brick, and are ornaments 
to the streets in which they are situated. They are 
furnished in magnificent style, and provide every 
comfort and luxury for their guests at moderate 
charges. The assertion that the New York hotels 
are extortionate in their prices is untrue ; where the 
charires are hiorh the accommodations furnished are 
in keeping with the price. A stranger in the great 
city can consult his tastes and means in the choice of 
a "stopping-place," for there are hotels suited to 
every need. Almost every house has a number of 
permanent guests, and the proprietor is thus assured 
of a certain income ; while the vast throngs of stran- 
gers who daily enter and leave the city provide a tran- 
sient custom unequalled in its proportions in any city 
of the New World. 



646 



NEW YORK. 



The hotels are divided into two classes — those 
which are conducted on the American plan, in which 
the guest is provided with a room, lights, attendance, 
and a certain number of meals per day ; and those 
conducted on the European plan, where the charge is 
only for rooms, attendance, and lights, the guest tak- 
ing his meals a la carte in the hotel restaurant, or 
wherever he sees fit. Each class has its advocates, 
and each its advanta^jes. 




ST. NICHOLAS HOTEL. 



The Astor House is one of the oldest hotels in New 
York, and the only first-class house in the lower part 
of the city. It is conducted on the European plan, 
and is admirable in all its appointments. Its restau- 
rant is famous, and its lunch-counter furnishes meals 
to several thousand people every day. It does a 
prosperous business, and is very popular with visit- 
ors from New England. It is a massive structure of 



THE METROPOLITAN HOTEL. 



047 



granite, on Broadway opposite the Post-Office, and 
its name has long been among the household words 
of the Metropolis. 

The St. Nicholas is an elegant marble building, on 
Broadway, between Broome and Spring streets, is 
conducted on the American plan, and is one of the 
most thoroughly comfortable houses in the city. Its 
public rooms on the street floor look out upon Broad- 




MEfROPOLITAN HOTEL 



way, and constitute one of the pleasantest lounging- 
places in New York. It is a favorite with Western 
people, and is a fortune to its proprietor, Mr. Uriah 
Welch, whose sterling qualities and unfailing kind- 
ness to his guests have won him hosts of friends. Its 
patrons are attached to it, and rarely leave it for 
newer houses. 

The Metropolitan Hotel is at the corner of Broad- 



648 



NEW YORK. 



way and Prince street, and occupies nearly half of the 
entire block, extending back to Crosby street in the 
rear. It is built of brownstone, with an imposino- 
front on Broadway, and is one of the largest of the 




GRAND CENTRAL HOTEL. 



Metropolitan hotels, containing about 400 rooms. It 
is popular with New Englanders and Western peo- 
ple, and does a profitable business. 

The Grand Central Hotel is a monster establish- 
ment, and is said to be the largest hotel in the United 



THE FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL. 



649 



States. It is situated on Broadway, between Bleecker 
and Amity streets, and extends back to Mercer street. 
The Broadway front is of marble, and the building- 
rises to a height of eight stories, with two additional 
stories in the central dome. It is surmounted by a 
handsome mansard roof, and is one of the most impos- 
ing edifices on Broadway. It is magnificently fur- 
nished, and will accommodate over looo guests. The 
dining-room will seat over 600 at one time. 




lSS^>ii^ 



i^.: 



S»P''iS»iLn,i 
|L8L!Lil,iir^'»lti,rpl 













FIFTH AVENIE II rCL 



The New York Hotel is a plain red brick building, 
occupying the square bounded by Broadway, Mercer 
street. East Washington Place, and Waverly Place. 
It is one of the most elegant and exclusive houses in 
the city, and is the favorite with wealthy visitors from 
the South. 

The Fifth Avenue Hotel is located at the junction 
of Broadway, Fifth avenue, and Twenty-third and 



650 NEW YORK. 

Twenty-fourth streets. It occupies the most conspic- 
uous site in the city, and is a magnificent edifice of 
white marble, six stories in height. It cost over 
^1,000,000, and is superbly furnished and kept in the 
most expensive style. Its patrons are principally per- 
sons of wealth, and it is a favorite with politicians of 
the Republican faith. 

The Windsor Hotel is situated on Fifth avenue, 
and extends from Forty- sixth to Forty -seventh 
streets. It is built of red brick, with brownstone 
trimmings, is eight stories in height, and is palatial in 
all its appointments. It is the highest up town of all 
the great hotels, and shares with the "Fifth Avenue" 
the wealthiest and most fashionable custom of the 
city and country. 

The other prominent hotels are the Albemarle, the 
Brevoort, the Buckingham, the Clarendon, the Cole- 
man, the Everett, the Gilsey, the Glenham, the Grand, 
the Hoffman, the Brunswick, the Irving, the Park 
Avenue, the Rossmore, the St. Cloud, the St. Denis, 
the St. James, the Sturtevant, and the Westminster. 

The accommodations provided by the first-class 
houses are unequalled in any part of the world. The 
parlors are sumptuously furnished, the halls sottly car- 
peted, the public rooms elegantly decorated, and the 
chambers the perfection of comfort. Elevators con- 
nect the various floors, and every convenience is at 
hand for the use of the guests. The table groans with 
all the luxuries of the season, and the service is per- 
fection. 

At night the scene in a first-class hotel is very in- 
teresting. The public rooms are thronged with guests 



HOTEL LIFE. G51 

and residents of the city, and are brilliantly lighted ; 
the parlors are filled with guests enjoying the plea- 
sures of social intercourse, the dining-rooms are 
crowded with ladies and gentlemen, many in evening 
dress, and groups of promenaders stroll up and down 
the halls of the parlor floor. 

The cost of furnishing a first-class hotel is enor- 
mous. As much as half a million dollars is often ex- 
pended for this purpose. The expenses of the house 
are very great, but the profits are in proportion. The 
Fifth Avenue Hotel is said to clear ^250,000 annually, 
and the other leading houses are proportionately prof- 
itable. The city is always full of strangers, and a 
handsome and well-kept hotel is sure of a large tran- 
sient custom. Thousands of city people make their 
homes at the hotels, and thus constitute a class (enor- 
mously profitable to the proprietors of the houses) 
unknown in other cities. It is this class of hotel livers 
that support the smaller establishments. These peo- 
ple are away at the watering-places during the sum- 
mer, but return to their old quarters with the fall of 
the leaves. 

All the New York hotels suffer more or less from 
impostors or dead-beats. The best houses seek in 
every way to exclude improper characters, but, in 
spite of the vigilance of the proprietors, such persons 
will find their way into them. Each house employs 
one or more private detectives to watch over the 
safety of its guests, but hotel robberies are of frequent 
occurrence, and often assume considerable proportions. 



652 NEW YORK. 

CHAPTER LIII. 

THE TRAMPS. 

NEW YORK THE PARADISE OF TRAMPS — WHO THEY ARE — THEIR MODE OF LIFE — WORTHLESS 
CHARACTERS — SLEEPING IN THE PARK — THE TRAMPS* ABLUTIONS — THE TRAMPS* LODGING 
HOUSE — UNFORTUNATE WANDERERS. 

New York is the paradise of tramps. This term is 
generally applied to able-bodied men and women who 
are too lazy to work, but prefer to pick up a precarious 
living by begging food and clothes from house to 
house. In the mild weather they sleep in the parks 
and public squares, and in the winter take refuge in 
the police-stations, as has been described. During 
the warm season they leave the city in large numbers, 
and wander through the country, going sometimes as 
far west as Ohio, following regular routes ; but in the 
winter they flock back to New York, where they are 
sure of food and shelter. Some remain in the city 
throughout the year. They are dissipated, as a rule, 
and the majority have been brought to their present 
condition by love of drink. They will steal, and even 
commit highway robbery, rape, or murder, if they have 
a chance, and are a terror to the householders of the 
upper portions of the city. They haunt the beer 
saloons and low class bar-rooms, beg for drinks, and 
will even drain the few drops left in the empty beer 
kegs on the sidewalks. They will solicit passers-by 
for money, and in this way often manage to collect 
enough to buy whiskey or beer. Their food they beg 
at the doors of residences, keeping a sharp lookout 



THE WAYS OF THE TRAMP. 



G53 



all the while for an opportunity to steal something of 
value when the servant's back is turned. 

The Central Park is a favorite lodging-place with 




THE TRAMPS BATH. 



them in warm weather. Under the cover of darkness 
they creep into the shrubbery, and make their beds on 
the grass. Sometimes they sleep on the benches scat- 



654 



NEW YORK. 



tered through the grounds, but as they are apt to 
be disturbed by the pohce, they prefer the shrubber)^ 
Madison Square is also one of their favorite sleeping- 
places, but, as they are sharply watched by the police, 
they are obliged to sleep in a sitting posture on the 
benches. In the morning they perform their ablutions 
in the pretty fountains. 




...^^mi 



BEEK TRAMPS. 



The more fortunate tramps patronize the cheap 
lodging-houses of the Bowery, where a bed can be 
had for ten cents a night. An old church for colored 
people, at Prince and Marion streets, has been turned 
into a tramps' lodging-house. Each occupant is pro- 
vided with food, lodging, and a bath, in return for which 
he must assist in sawing, splitting, and bundling kind- 



TOO LAZY TO WORK. 655 

ling-wood, the sale of which provides a part of the 
revenue of the house. The place is not popular, how- 
ever, as the tramp disdains to work. Nightly scores 
of men and boys apply for lodging, but refuse to ac- 
cept it when told they must work for it. 

Many deserving persons are classed among the 
tramps. They are friendless, homeless, and without 
money or work, and must adopt the tramp's life in 
order to maintain existence. Such persons gladly ac- 
cept any work offered them, and escape from their 
wretched companionship as soon as able to do so. It 
is easy to distinguish them from the genuine tramp, 
however, for they are eager to work ; while the 
tramp, pure and simple, regards an offer of labor as 
an insult. 



656 NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER LIV. 

THE POST-OFFICE. 

THE MODEL POST-OFFICE OF THE UNION — THE BUILDING — THE POST-OFFICE PROPER — THE 
BOX AND STAMP DEPARTMENT — INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS OF THE POST-OFFICE — BUSI- 
NESS OP THE OFFICE — HOW THE WORK IS CONDUCTED — DESPATCHING THE MAILS — 
"STEAMER day" — QUICK WORK. 

The New York Post-Office is the largest and best 
conducted estabHshment of its kind in the United 
States. It is a massive edifice of Dix Island granite, 
triangular in shape, and occupies what was once the 
southern end of the City Hall Park, at the junction 
of Broadway and Park Row. It is five stories in height 
above the street, and is surmounted by a Mansard 
roof with several domes, the roof constituting an extra 
story. Below the sidewalk there are also a basement 
and a sub-basement. The architecture is a combina- 
tion of the Doric and Renaissance styles, and the 
domes, which rise above the roof, are modelled after 
those of the Louvre at Paris. The girders, beams, 
and joists used in the building are of iron, and the 
vast structure is as solid as skill can make it. The 
interior is handsomely fitted up, with elevators con- 
necting the various floors, and is divided between the 
Post-Office and the United States Courts. 

The Post-Office occupies the sub-basement, the 
basement, the first and second floors, a gallery about 
25 feet wide running around the entire building be- 
tween the first and second floors, and a portion of the 



THE BOX DEPARTMENT. G57 

fifth floor. Entrances to the building are placed on 
all the sides except the north front facing the City- 
Hall. The main entrance is in the centre of the 
southern front by a noble portico, and from this broad 
iron stairways lead to the top floor. The third and 
fourth floors are occupied by the United States Courts 
and their offices. The fifth floor is devoted to the 
janitors, and to the storage of material belonging to 
the Post-Offtce. 

The engines and other steam machinery used in 
heating the building and running the elevators, are 
placed in the sub-basement, the basement proper 
being used for the reception and sorting of the mails. 

Entering from the street the visitor finds himself in 
a broad corridor runnino- around three sides of the 
building. Here are the v^indows for the sale of stamps, 
envelopes, etc., the drops for letters and papers, and 
5795 boxes, each of which is provided with a metallic 
door with a lock and key. The boxes are arranged 
in alcoves, thus giving double room. Here is the 
general delivery and the ladies' window, and at the 
end of the corridor on the Park Row side is the For- 
eign Department, with a separate drop for letters for 
each country, and a window for the sale of stamps for 
such letters. The drops for the United States are 
arranged by States, and there are also drops for the 
principal cities of the Union, and a separate one for 
New York. This arrangement saves much trouble 
in assorting the letters deposited in the office. 

The space enclosed by the boxes is of a triangular 

shape. Light is admitted through the windows of the 

balcony, but chiefly through a large skylight, lOO feet 
42 



658 NEW YORK. 

square, and 30 feet above the first floor. Above the 
skylight is a court open to the weather, and giving 
light and ventilation to the inner rooms of the floors 
above. At the south-western end of the room, at a 
conspicuous point, is an electric annunciator, the 
largest ever constructed, which gives notice of the 
time of the arrival and departure of all mails. Scat- 
tered through the room are tables and cases of boxes 
for mailing and distributing purposes. At the north 
end of the room is a semi-circular case, containing 
682 large, deep boxes, into which the packages of 
letters ready for the mails are thrown. At the back 
of each box are hooks for the attachment of bags, 
into which the matter slides at the opening of the door. 

The mails are received on the City Hall side of the 
building, along the whole length of which are elevators 
— ten in number — running to the basement, where 
everything except letters is distributed and mailed. 
All the employes of the Post-Office enter the build- 
ing by the portico from this side. The large base- 
ment room contains a number of wardrobes, with 
locks and keys — one for each employe of the office. 
In the south-west corner, under the portico and pave- 
ment, is a space, enclosed by massive iron screens, 
extending almost to the ceiling. Here are stored all 
the mail-bags belonging to the United States not in 
use. 

Upon the second floor of the building are located 
the Money Order Office, the Registered Letter and 
Special Agency Departments, the Wholesale Stamp 
Department, and the private offices of the Postmas- 
ter and his assistants. 



BUSINESS OF THE POST-OFFICE. 659 

The total cost of the building was between six and 
seven million dollars. 

The business of the New York Post-Office is im- 
mense. Besides its transactions with foreign countries, 
it is in communication with nearly 40,000 post-offices 
in the United States. 84 mails are despatched, and 
86 received, every day. About 300,000,000 letters, 
papers, etc., are received and forwarded annually, and 
over 1 200 men are employed in the work of the es- 
tablishment. The average annual receipts of the of- 
fice are about ^3,000,000, and the annual expenditures 
about $1,000,000; so that the office yields a net an- 
nual profit of about $2,000,000. 

The work of the office is conducted with the most 
perfect system, much of which is due to the efforts of 
the Hon. T. L. James, formerly Postmaster here, and 
now Postmaster-General of the United States. The 
immense business of the establishment is so simpli- 
fied that it goes on like clockwork, without a percepti- 
ble hitch. 



GGO NEW YORK. 



CHAPTER LV. 

CASTLE GARDEN. 

THE BUILDING — THE OLD PORT — EARLY HISTORY OF CASTLE GARDEN — BECOMES AN EMIGRANT 
DEPOT — ARRIVALS OF FOREIGN STEAMERS — LANDING THE EMIGRANTS — AVERAGE WEALTH 
OF THE NEW-COMERS — PASSING THE SURGEON — REGISTERING EMIGRANTS — INTERNAL AR- 
RANGEMENTS OP CASTLE GARDEN. 

At the north-western angle of the Battery Park is 
a singular-looking circular structure of stone, to which 
have been added several out-buildings of wood, all 
enclosed on the land side by a high wooden fence. 
This is Castle Garden, the famous emigrant-landing 
depot of New York. The stone building was erected 
between 1807 and 1820, and was intended for a fort, 
but in the latter year was found to be too weak to bear 
the weight of the guns intended for it. It was sold 
by the General Government, and was converted into 
a summer-garden, where refreshments were sold and 
indifferent concerts given. In 1832 a grand ball was 
given here by the citizens to Lafayette, on his last 
visit to this country, and in 1843 ^ reception to Presi- 
dent Tyler was held here. Subsequently it was con- 
verted into a concert hall, and here Jenny Lind and 
several other celebrated singers made their first ap- 
pearance in America. In 1847 it was leased to the 
Commissioners of Emigration, and has ever since been 
the principal emigrant depot of the country. It was 
partially destroyed in 1876, but has since been rebuilt. 

When a steamer with emigrants on board drops her 



SCENES IN THE EMIGRANT DEPOT. 661 

anchor in the river, several large barges are towed 
alongside, and to these are transferred the emigrants 
and their baggage. As soon as the barges are loaded, 
they are cast off, and are towed to Castle Garden, 
while the steamer proceeds to her pier in the North 
River. When the barge is made fast to the landing at 
Castle Garden, the baggage is taken into a hall of the 
building, where it is claimed by its owners, and exam- 
ined by the Custom-House inspectors. Some of the 
new-comers have scarcely any baggage at all, while 
others are possessed of large quantities of it. For- 
merly each emigrant was questioned as to the amount 
of money brought with him, but this practice has been 
abandoned. It is estimated that the average amount 
is about ^loo for each person, and $50 more for per- 
sonal property. Taking this average, and estimating 
the total number of arrivals at 250,000 in a favorable 
year, it will be seen that these new-comers increase the 
wealth of the country in a single year by ^37,500,000. 
The Custom-House inspectors having passed the 
baggage, it is sent to a room provided for its proper 
storage. The surgeon of the establishment then ex- 
amines the emigrants to see that no paupers, or crim- 
inals, or persons affected with contagious or infectious 
diseases are among them. After the inspection is 
over, the emigrants are passed into the rotunda, or 
principal hall of the building, filing, one by one, by the 
registration desk, where their names, age, nationality, 
destination, the vessel's name, and date of arrival, are 
carefully registered, as a means of identifying the per- 
son should it be necessary to do so at any time in 
the future. The floor of the rotunda is divided into 



662 NEW YORK. 

enclosures, containing a telegraph-office, post-office, 
money exchange office, railroad ticket offices, and a 
restaurant. Those of the new-comers who have friends 
awaiting them are allowed to depart with them, after 
the latter have satisfied the authorities as to their real 
characters; others who wish to remain in the rotunda 
are allowed to do so for a stated time; those who wish 
to go to a boarding-house, are recommended to houses 
licensed by, and under the supervision of, the Commis- 
sioners; and others still, who wish to proceed at once 
to their destinations in other parts of the country, can 
purchase their railway tickets and have their baggage 
checked at the offices in the building. The sick are 
cared for in a temporary hospital until they can be 
transferred to Ward's Island, and the helpless are kindly 
looked after, and sent to the institution provided for 
them on the same island. A labor exchange is estab- 
lished in the building, where those who wish to pro- 
cure work can secure situations. Interpreters, speak- 
ing all the various European languages, are provided, 
and every care is taken to protect the emigrant's 
interests, and to guard him from the dangers which 
threaten him during his first few days of strangeness 
and inexperience in the great city. 



MARKET TRAFFIC. 663 



CHAPTER LVI. 

THE MARKETS OF NEW YORK. 

THE MARKET-HOrSES — UNSIGHTLY STRUCTURES — THE MANHATTAN MARKET — SCENES IN THE 
MARKETS — NEW YORK's SOURCE OF SUPPLY — THE MORNING HOURS — SATUKDAY-NIGHT 
MARKETS — THE OYSTER-SALOONS — FULTON MARKET — THE "CORNER GROCERIES." 

The markets of New York, with the exception of 
the Manhattan and Tompkins markets, are about as 
unattractive and wretched structures as could well be 
imagined. They are dirty, in various stages of dilap- 
idation, and are regarded by the citizens as first-class 
nuisances. The amount of business conducted within 
them is enormous, however, but even this is surpassed 
by the aggregate transactions of the street stands and 
retail stores in their immediate vicinity, which to a 
stranger appear to form a continuation of the market 
itself. 

The principal establishments are the Fulton, Wash- 
ington, Jefferson, Catharine, Union, Clinton, Franklin, 
Centre, Tompkins, Essex, and Manhattan. The Man- 
hattan market is the property of a private stock com- 
pany, and is a magnificent structure of brick and stone, 
lying at the foot of Thirty-fourth street, on the Hud- 
son River, and covering about three acres. It is used 
mainly for the sale of butchers' meats, and a large 
part of it is devoted to the purposes of an abattoir. 
Its location is unfortunate, being difficult of access. 

The best-known markets are the Fulton and Wash- 
ington. The former is now undergoing reconstruc- 



664 NEW YORK. 

tion, and the new market will be a handsome and 
clean edifice. The old one was an eyesore to the 
neighborhood. 

Bad as the outward appearance of the markets is, 
the interior presents one of the most interesting sights 
of the city. The stalls are filled with the products of 
every portion of the Union, and with fruits and deli- 
cacies from foreign climes. The display of meats is 
extensive and enticing, and at Thanksgiving and 
Christmas times the number of turkeys that find their 
way here is perfectly astounding. The country for 
miles around New York abounds in market ea-rdens 
and truck farms, and these send their rich stores of 
fruits and vegetables in profusion, while similar pro- 
ducts from every State in the Union are also displayed 
for sale. Steam has made even the most distant States 
of the West and South producers for the New York 
markets. Large as the supply is, the markets are 
never overstocked. Over a million of people pur- 
chase their food here, and the demand is unceasing. 
Everything finds a sale at good prices. The Metrop- 
olis is the first American city to be supplied with the 
various products of the country. As the spring opens 
the South sends its fruits and vegetables to these 
markets, beginning with Florida. As the season ad- 
vances the source of supply moves northward and 
westward, so that the Metropolis enjoys the benefit 
of all the changes of season to a greater extent than 
would be possible in a provincial city. 

The business of the markets begins about four 
o'clock in the morning. The first comers are the 
caterers for the hotels, the restaurants, the fashionable 



THE FULNON MARKET. 665 

boarding-houses, and the mansions of the very rich, 
and the proprietors of the "corner groceries" and 
meat stores of the city. These purchase largely, and 
the best of the stock of the dealers is soon disposed 
of. Prices are high at this season, but as the morn- 
ing advances they decline. Towards six or seven 
o'clock a perfect army of boarding-house keepers 
makes its appearance, and now begins the season for 
" bargains." By ten o'clock the market is wellnigh 
exhausted, and the remainder of the stock is disposed 
of to the poor, who cannot afford to purchase better 
food at the prices which rule the earlier hours. 

On Saturday night, the night before Thanksgiving, 
and on Christmas Eve, the markets are in their glory. 
Brightly lighted, filled with the most tempting articles, 
and thronged with eager purchasers, they do a lively 
business, and are perfect Babels of noise and confu- 
sion. 

In many of the markets, rooms are built in the 
enclosure, some of which are handsomely furnished. 
These are used for restaurants and oyster-houses. 
The Fulton Market has long been famous for its oys- 
ters, and at almost every hour of the day during the 
season its most noted saloons are thronged with lovers 
of the delicious bivalves. Ladies in rich dresses, and 
gentlemen swells, pick their way through the dirt and 
grime, and crowd the saloons in quest of their favorite 
delicacy. 

The Fulton Market is a vast bazaar. Almost any- 
thing can be purchased there. Side by side are book 
and periodical stands, with full stocks of the latest 
literature, eating-stands, oyster-saloons, bar-rooms, 



666 NEW YORK. 

cheap jewelery stores, hardware, crockery, and dry- 
goods stands, all of which seem to do well. 

Comparatively few of the people of the city pur- 
chase their supplies at the markets. They buy of the 
provision dealers who procure their supplies from 
these establishments, and sell to their customers at a 
considerable advance upon the market rates. The 
location of the markets and the immense distances of 
the city render this system a necessity. 



NEW York's water supply. 667 

CHAPTER LVII. 

THE CROTON WATER-WORKS. 

THE SOURCE OF NEW YORK'S WATER SUPPLV-CROTON LAKE-THE CROTON AQUEDUCT-A WON- 
UHU suuK>.ii ^ „,„„ KUKVirn" SYSTEM — THE CENTRAL PARK 

DERFUL WORK— THE HIGH BRIDGE— THE HIGH SERVICE SYSTEM 

RESERVOIRS-HOW THE WATER IS SUPPLIED TO THE CITV-ENORMOUS WASTE. 

Seventy miles from New York is a group of 23 
small lakes, occupying portions of Westchester, Put- 
nam, and Dutchess counties, and a small corner of 
Connecticut. They lie in a lovely region, and are 
noted for the purity and abundance of their waters. 
They are drained by the Croton River, which along the 
lo^yer portion of its course flows through Croton Lake, 
40 miles from New York, and finally falls into the 
Hudson above Sing Sing. 

During the early part of the century New York be- 
gan to realize the necessity of providing an abundant 
supply of pure water for drinking and other purposes. 
A number of plans were offered, some looking to the 
Bronx River as the source of supply, and some to 
other localities ; but no definite action was taken until 
the great fire of 1835 taught the cidzens the danger 
of leaving the Metropolis longer without an adequate 
supply of fresh water. Then it was determined to 
bring water into the city from Croton Lake, and m 
May, 1837, the construcdon of an aqueduct from the 
lake to the city, a distance of 40 miles, was begun. 
Five years were employed in the work, and on the 4th 
of July, 1842, the Croton water was distributed through 
New York. 



668 NEW YORK. 

The work was begun by throwing a massive dam 
across Croton River at its outlet from the lake, which 
raised the water to a depth of 40 feet, and gave to the 
lake a retaining capacity of about 500,000,000 gallons. 
The dam is constructed of massive masonry, and is 
230 feet wide and 45 feet high, and over it the waste 
water flows in a fine cataract. The aqueduct begins 
at the dam, and consists of a tunnel of brick, stone, 
and cement, arched above and below, with a width of 
seven and a half feet, and a height of eight and a half 
feet. Along its entire course it falls 13 inches to the 
mile. After leaving the gateway of the dam it follows 
the left bank of the Croton River for five miles, when 
it turns southward, penetrating two lofty hills of solid 
rock by means of tunnels, and takes a generally south- 
erly course to the High Bridge, opposite New York. 
For a part of the way it rests upon the ground, and at 
other points is supported by a series of stone arches. 
During its course it crosses 25 considerable streams, 
besides many brooks. It is conveyed over the Har- 
lem River by the High Bridge, a splendid stone struct- 
ure of 15 arches, eight of which, 80 feet wide and 100 
feet above the tide, rise out of the river. The bridge 
is 1450 feet in length and 21 feet in width, and is pro- 
vided with a parapet on each side. The great height 
of the arches prevents the bridge from obstructing the 
navigation of the river, and vessels pass and repass 
under it with perfect ease. On the bridge is laid an 
immense iron pipe, seven and a half feet in diameter, 
through which the water is conveyed from the tunnel 
to the opposite shore. Two other pipes, three feet in 
diameter, are also laid on each side of the great pipe, 



THE HIGH BRIDGE. 



6G9 



through which an additional supply of water may be 
conveyed to the New York side. Above the pipes is 
the floor of the bridge, which is laid off as a prom- 
enade. The bridge is an imposing structure, is visible 
from a long distance, and forms a prominent feature 
of one of the loveliest landscapes in the world. 




HIGH BRIDGE. 



At the northern, or Westchester, end of the bridge 
is a gate-house, which is used for the purpose of reg- 
ulatinor the flow of the Croton water from the tunnel 
into the pipes over the bridge; and on the New York 
side is another gate-house, by which the water is ad- 
mitted to the aqueduct, which resumes its course from 



670 NEW YORK. 

this point to the reservoirs in the Central Park. At 
this end of the bridge two large reservoirs are located, 
known as the "Storage" and "High Service" reser- 
voirs. The latter of these is designed for the supply 
of the elevated regions of Carmansville. Powerful 
engines pump the water from the aqueduct into this 
reservoir, supplying 100,000 gallons daily. A hand- 
some tower of granite rises at the side of the reser- 
voir, and the water is pumped to the top of this, from 
which it falls into the pipes that supply the district of 
Washington Heights. 

Two and a quarter miles below the High Bridge 
the aqueduct reaches a gate-house at the corner of 
Tenth avenue and One Hundred and Tenth street, 
from which the water is conveyed in pipes to Ninety- 
third street between Ninth and Tenth avenues. 
Here is another gate-house, and from this point the 
water flows into a new section of the aqueduct, which 
conveys it to, and discharges it in, the two large 
receiving reservoirs in Central Park. The cost of 
the Croton Aqueduct and the original reservoirs was 
about $9,000,000. 

The reservoirs are two in number, and have already 
been mentioned in connection with the Central Park. 
The older or southern reservoir was built at the time 
of the construction of the aqueduct, and covers an 
area of 35 acres, with a water surface of 31 acres and 
a capacity of 1 50,000,000 gallons. The new reservoir 
covers an area of 106 acres, with a water surface of 
96 acres and a capacity of 1,029,888,000 gallons. 
When full it has a depth of 38 feet. It is divided by 
a wall, so that in case of accident only one-half of the 



THE CROTON RESERVOIRS. 671 

reservoir need be emptied. It is provided with an 
elaborate system of gates, by means of wliich any 
desired quantity of water may be taken from it. The 
affluent gate at the northern end distributes the water 
equally into each section of the vast basin, or into one 
section only if desired. At the southern end is a hand- 
some gate-house of granite, by means of which the 
water in both reservoirs is distributed into the pipes 
running southward into the city. Here the great 
forty-eight inch mains which supply the city begin, 
and here is a vast but systematic arrangement of 
blow-off valves, stop-cocks, ventilators, and other con- 
trivances, all contained in a large vault below the 
level of the gate-house. The blow-off valves are used 
for letting the water out into the sewers of the city 
when repairs are to be made to the reservoirs. On 
the floor of the gate-house is a series of iron wheels 
which work large screws, which, in their turn, raise or 
lower the gates, admitting the water to the great mains 
or shutting it off from them. One of these mains 
extends towards First avenue, another to Third ave- 
nue, a third to Madison avenue, and the others to the 
principal longitudinal streets of the city. There is a 
third reservoir on Fifth avenue, between Fortieth and 
Forty-second streets. It is a massive, fortress like 
structure of stone, rising high above the street, cover- 
ing four acres of ground, and possessing a capacity 
of 20,000,000 gallons. It is the principal distributing 
reservoir for the lower part of the city. 

The aqueduct brings to the city a supply of 104,- 
000,000 gallons of water daily, and the reservoirs con- 
tain, when full, about ten days' supply. In ordinary 



672 NEW YORK. 

seasons the quantity of water is abundant ; but in 
times of unusual dryness the greatest care is required 
to keep the city suppHed. The Central Park reser- 
voirs are connected with the police and fire head- 
quarters by telegraph, and in seasons of drought, 
when the water is carefully dealt out, news of the 
location of a fire is telegraphed to the gate-house of 
the new reservoir, and a full force of water is turned 
on to the mains of the district in which the conflagra- 
tion occurs. 

In spite of the warnings of the Croton Board, the 
people of the city use the water as lavishly in seasons 
of drought as in times of plenty. They are charged 
for the privilege they enjoy, a water-tax being levied 
upon each building in which the Croton is used. This 
tax amounts to about ^6000 a day, or ^2,000,000 a 
year. 

The total cost of the water-works of New York, 
including the laying of the mains and other expenses, 
has been about ^30,000,000. The total consumption 
of water daily is about 95,000,000 gallons. Over 400 
miles of mains are laid under the streets of the city, 
and about 100,000 buildings of all kinds are supplied 
with pure water. 



THE END. 



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